


Mercy

by Meraad



Series: Always Been You (Taashath/Cullen) [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Mentions of Suicide, Sex, Slow Burn, Violence, mage abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 72
Words: 136,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15830595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meraad/pseuds/Meraad
Summary: In the aftermath of the Qunari rampaging through Kirkwall, Knight-Captain Cullen finds a Saarebas. His Templar training and the blood still running in the streets, all tell Cullen he should kill her. For some reason though, he cannot bring himself to end the silent woman's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU so very, very AU. I've been playing DA2 lately, and this idea struck me last night when I should have been sleeping.

It was chaos. In the very early hours of the morning. The Qunari had attacked, overrun the city. It had been pure pandemonium. So many people were dead and so much of the town destroyed, he wasn’t sure anything in Kirkwall would ever be the same. A sound caught his attention, the sound of something scraping on stone. He turned, headed in the dark corner, his hand on his sword. There was a stack of crates, scorched here and there, an arrow protruded from one and he saw a smear of blood in the shape of a handprint. “Whoever is back there,” he said, his voice hard. “Come out and I won’t hurt you.”

Silence.

Cullen wondered if he’d imagined it. Or maybe it had been a cat. Cautiously he peered around the stack and his heart kicked up into his throat. His hand flexed on his sword and without a thought, he sent out a spell, preventing the attack he knew was coming. Only it didn’t come. 

He recognized her as a Qunari Mage, the chains and the mask that concealed most of her face, her lips sewn together. She made a quiet sound, flinched away from him, pressing herself deeper into the small corner. He saw a flash of a gold colored eye through one of the slits on the mask and he saw terror. 

What would the Templars even do with a Qunari? Kill her on sight. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. He knew killing her now would be merciful. More merciful than the Qunari had shown the people of Kirkwall. 

“Knight-Captain,” a voice shouted and Cullen looked away from the Qunari. “Come quickly!” 

The urgency in the other man’s voice had him quickly rushing away, forgetting about the hidden Qunari for several hours. 

Cullen just wanted five minutes of peace. Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino had been at each other's throats for hours. “Maker’s breath,” he sighed. He heard yelling, and the distinct sound of fighting. Hurrying his pace down the stairs he froze for a beat at the scene in front of him. 

The Qunari mage he’d seen earlier had been dragged from behind the crates, he could see the trail of blood, and a small crowd was taking turns kicking and hitting her with a piece of wood fashioned into a club. The mage had curled up on herself. It was obvious she wasn’t lashing out, hadn’t used her magic. “That is enough!” he bellowed. 

“But Knight-Captain!” a woman cried. “It’s one of those monsters! They killed my Toby!” Others cried their agreement and he saw one of the men rear back to hit her again.

“I said enough,” he snarled, drawing his sword.

The man went still, and the crowd fell silent.

“This is a matter for the Templars to deal with, not the public.” He stood his ground and after several long moments, the crowd dispersed. He stood there, over the woman for a handful of minutes longer. She hadn’t moved and he wondered if he’d been too late. Sheathing his sword, he glanced down, the mask had fallen from her face, and blood dripped from her lips and her nose as well as a gash on her forehead. But her eyes were open and she was watching him.

 _A merciful death_ , he thought. Though she didn’t deserve it, none of the Qunari who had rampaged through the city, killing without compunction deserved mercy. A mage, no less. But not once had she attempted to cast a spell. Was she even a mage? Or just bound in the trappings of one? Crouching down beside her, he glanced around. People were milling about, curious about the scene and what the Templar would do with the Qunari Mage. “Do you understand me?” he asked and she just blinked. One of her horns he noticed was broken. A large piece broke off nearly down to the base.

Cullen didn’t know a word of Qunlat. He thought of Hawke, the woman and her allies had dealings with them. But, Maker’s Breath, he knew she hated him simply for being a Templar. “On your feet,” he said, but she didn’t move, just continued to stare up at him. He was certain she’d been injured. The angry mob would have killed her had it gone on just a few minutes longer. Reaching out, Cullen wrapped his hand around her arm and tugged, carefully. “Up,” he said, as he stood. 

The Qunari struggled to get to her feet, hindered by the chains that bound her wrists to the thick collar. Finally, she stood in front of him, blood dripping from her mouth, it painted her clothes and he wondered how much of it was hers, and how much the blood of innocents in town.

 _A private merciful death_. Meredith would make a spectacle of it, he knew. An eager young recruit came running and Cullen clenched his jaw. “Knight-Captain, can I assist-” 

“No,” he bit out. “I have the matter in hand. See to the injured.”

“But-”

“Now,” he snarled and the recruit nodded before saluting him and quickly scurrying away. Cullen knew the back-ways through town and after numerous offers of _help_ , he had escorted the Qunari to the Wounded Coast on the outskirts of the city. She had gone with him, without resistance, utterly silent. Get it over with, he told himself. “Kneel,” he said, his hand going to his sword grip. She didn’t react. Just continued to stare at him with haunted golden eyes. “I said,” he ground out, and though she stood a full head taller than him, he gripped her shoulder and pushed. “Kneel.” 

She hit her knees in the soft sand, a slight wince crossed her face before she blinked and stared up at him, not a single emotion visible.

“You slaughtered hundreds of people.” He withdrew his sword, stepped back and held the point to her throat. The Qunari did, but had she? What did it matter, she was a mage. Mages could not be trusted. This one in particular. She held his gaze until Cullen felt distinctly uncomfortable. Was that her magic? Casting with only a look? But then her eyes slipped shut and she arched her head back, pressing the delicate skin of her throat to the tip of the blade. A trickle of blood seeped from where it broke the skin. 

Cullen jerked his sword back, a deep frown on his face as he looked at her. Did she want to die? He wondered, long silent moments passing. The water lapping at the shore was the only sound, aside from the blood pounding in Cullen’s ears. Her brow drew together and she opened her eyes, stared up at him and he could see the confusion in her eyes, it mirrored his own, that he felt down to his soul. 

_Not to be trusted_ , he reminded himself, grip tightening on the pommel. Just get it over with and return to the city. But instead of finding her throat, his sword found its way back into its sheath. “Andraste Preserve me,” he said quietly. There was a cave a little farther up the beach, one he knew Hawke had recently cleared out. Helping the woman to her feet, he led her down the beach. Both grateful and hating the fact that she had not spoken a word, yet followed him willingly. 

An old lantern that still held oil, hung from the wall in the cave. He lit it and then turned back to the Qunari. Her pale silver hair was matted with blood. What she needed was a long hot bath. _What she needs is a quick death,_ that little voice in his head yelled. 

The chains that bound her were thick and heavy, looping from each wrist to the wide collar that fit around her shoulders. He had no idea how to release them without a key. Absently, he rubbed his hand over his mouth as he looked at her. _What was I thinking bringing her out here? Sparing her life?_

She kept watching him, gold eyes seeming to see everything. Cullen grit his teeth. “This was a mistake,” he said whirling around and storming out of the cave. He barely made it ten feet when he realized she was following him. “No,” he snapped, reaching his hand out. She flinched, stumbling backward into the sand. 

Cullen withdrew his hand. She still watched him, but there was a wariness in her eyes and he could see the faint trembling of her shoulders. Was it pain? Or fear? “Stay here,” he said, though he imagined she didn’t understand common tongue. Or maybe she just couldn’t speak. Her lips had been sewn shut. He’d heard tales of some mages having their tongues cut out. 

He left her there in the sand outside the damp cave, knowing that he hadn’t done her any favors. The entire trek back to the city he told himself that he needed to go out there and just kill her before someone else found her. Cullen didn’t believe anyone else would simply spare her life, or end it without brutality.

Word spread fast. He’d barely made it through the Chantry door when Knight-Commander Meredith was there. “Knight-Captain,” she said. “I hear there was one of those,” her lip curled into a snarl. “Qunari mages still alive.” 

Cullen straightened his shoulders. “Yes, Knight-Commander,” he said. “There _was_ ,” he said, emphasizing the last word. 

Meredith pursed her lips. “I don’t believe that was your decision to make, Captain. It should have been questioned and then publicly executed.”

He felt the bile rise up and burn the back of his throat. He could imagine the torture she would have endured. _You should not be so concerned,_ he mentally berated himself. “I apologize, Knight-Commander. I believed that after what the people of Kirkwall suffered, that it would be best handled quietly.” 

“People want their revenge.”

“And one lone mage isn’t going to sate that. Again, I apologize. If you feel I need to be reprimanded in some manner for making the decision-” 

Meredith cut him off with the wave of a hand. “It’s done, I’ll assume you disposed of its body?”

Cullen thought of her, the fear he’d seen in her eyes as she had stumbled and fallen into the sand. Killing her would have been a kindness. “Yes,” he lied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some depictions of graphic violence and suicidal thoughts.

The Saarebas held herself perfectly still and did not move until her joints began to ache. The man had left and she imagined he would not be returning. Why had he not just killed her? Because he was cruel. Slowly she rolled onto her side, the ache of her body made her want to stay right where she was, but it was too out in the open. Too bright.

Getting to her feet she stumbled back to the cave with the lantern and peered around. It was damp, cold and empty. She blew out the light, then crept deeper into the cavern where she wedged herself into a space between the cavern wall and a large boulder to await her death.

All she had ever known was to follow the Qun. Her duty was to die. Her kith had been slaughtered, Arvaarad killed. Therefore, the dangerous thing needed to die. But she was a coward. It would only take a thought, a little bit of energy and she would follow the Qun as she had her entire life. But she was afraid.

She’d truly believed the Templar would do it. Make the choice for her. He’d pressed the tip of his sword to her throat, it stung where the blade had broken the skin. But he hadn’t. Closing her eyes, she drew her knees up as close to her chest as she could. The collar made it difficult but not impossible, and soon she found herself dreaming.

 

_Arvaarad held the control rod and she followed and obeyed the silent commands. Humans, elves, dwarves, some tried to fight, some screamed and ran, most just died. A child stood in a doorway, tears streaked down the things face. Arvaarad commanded. It was only a child. Terrified and hurt. The buzz from the control rod made her muscles jump and she tensed. Throw the spell. Make it quick. End the child._

_Fire built in her hands, the child still screamed. The fireball launched from her hand and she knew that it would miss. She’d be punished for certain. The spell hit the stone house, sputtered. A hand curled in her hair, pulled hard. Arvaarad hissed angry words, held her head still and she watched as Karasaad strode up to the screaming child, lifted it off the ground with a hand around its throat.u_

_She could barely breathe as she watched. Karasaad snarled and hurled the child into the wall. It stopped wailing, lay silent and bleeding. Dead._

_A woman with long red hair wielded magic with ease beside her companions. A white haired elf struck down Arvaarad, the control rod clattered to the ground with finality. A spell knocked the wind from her lungs and she fell to her knees, silently screaming as demons seemed to swarm her. The child she’d watched die just moments earlier stood before her, gaze accusing. She blinked and looked up. The child vanished back into thin air and the woman and her companions continued, slaughtering any Qunari who stood in their way._

_Blood ran thick in the streets. Dead Qunari lay scattered like debris on the cobblestones. Her duty. Her duty was to fight and to die. Looking down at her hands and the chains around her wrist she wished she could break. But she wasn’t strong enough to run away from the Qun, nor was she strong enough to die for it._

_Scrambling before someone else stepped into the narrow street, she grabbed the control rod and threw it as hard as she could. The sound of many running footsteps echoed off the buildings and she began searching for a place to hide. A stack of crates near a wall. A corner. Dark. Safe. She dragged the crates away from the wall just enough to crawl behind them, where she held her breath and waited._

 

She sucked in a breath as she woke from the memory. Her body ached, muscles were sore and she could feel the fabric of the wide pants sticking to a gash on her leg. The light outside the cave had faded to darkness. How long would it take for her to die there? Her lips were cracked and her throat ached for a sip of water. Her tongue was swollen from where she’d bitten it when one of the people in the angry mob had kicked her in the back. Maybe if she just went to sleep, she could never wake up.

A man’s voice. Cursing? Her knowledge of the Common tongue was very limited to the handful of words she’d managed to pick up while traveling and staying in Kirkwall. She had learned to speak Qunlat with the other children, before. But on the fateful day that her abilities, her curse, made itself known, she was no longer allowed to learn. Her only task was to control herself, control her magic and follow the Qun. She realized she must have fallen asleep again as it was even darker outside than it had been before.

The voice sounded angry and she shrunk deeper into the corner. Had he come back to kill her? Holding her breath, she waited. He was in the cave, speaking words she didn’t understand. There was a flick of light and she watched him lift a match up, he peered into the cave, spoke, then with a furrowed brow searched for the lantern. He hadn’t seen her in her hiding place. Maybe he’d just leave again.

But no, he lit the lantern, then held it up. Finally, he spotted her. His brow knit and he stepped closer. She closed her eyes and waited. Would he draw his sword and finally slit her throat, or did he have other plans?

Soft leather grazed the back of her hand and her eyes flew open. The Templar was crouched down in front of her, one hand holding the lantern, the other was on her. Gently. The last time someone had touched her with a gentle hand had been before, long before. She withdrew quickly, wishing she could make herself smaller.

The Templar frowned, leaned back, then shifted farther back. “....” She continued to just stare at him, not understanding the words. He carried the lantern over to where a small long since burned out campfire once sat. He made quick work of starting a new one with the pieces of wood that had been piled against the wall. Then he looked over at her again, lifted his hand.

She flinched. The spell he’d used on her when she’d been hiding behind the crates had hurt like nothing she had ever experienced. Her magic had been gone. Any connection to it cut off. He turned his hand, curled his fingers, beckoning her. “… hurt...” he shook his head, then reached for the sack beside him. “… food…”

Her mouth watered viciously. When had she last eaten? Broth that morning? Or had it been the day before? She couldn’t remember. She was cautious as she shifted and crawled from her hiding place. Was this all a trick? She wondered. Did it matter if it was? The fire was warm and she crawled closer to the flames, ignoring the aches and pains.

The Templar spoke again and she looked at him. In his hand was a small pair of scissors. “...hurt...” he said again, shaking his head slowly. One big hand cupped her jaw and she sat frozen, her heart pounding in her ears as he moved the small blades closer to her face. She closed her eyes tightly and waited.

Cold metal against her lower lip. A soft curse. _Shnk_. Her eyes flew open. The man stared at her mouth, intent on his task. Tears flooded her eyes suddenly and she squeezed them shut again. _Calm. Calm. Be calm. No emotions. Saarebas are not allowed emotion._ A whimper escaped her lips when he cut the next one, then the next. Even though she had no idea what he was saying, she liked the sound of his voice, the low rumble as he cut the cording that had sealed her mouth for most of her life.

He pulled his hands away and she knew that the cord had been cut. She could open her mouth and scream if she wanted. Her jaw trembled and she clenched it tightly shut. Would her mouth even work? She opened her eyes again, the man was frowning. She watched as he tugged off his gloves and lifted his hands again. A finger brushed against her lower lip and this time she watched him as he focused on her mouth and pulling free the cut strands.

When the task was done, he looked at her, one hand still on her chin, his thumb rubbing gently along the edge of her lower lip. Then he quickly withdrew and fumbled through his pack. He pulled out a skein and held it out to her. She took it, not caring what was inside. Her throat ached and she wanted something to wash the taste of blood from her mouth. Pressing the opening to her lips she felt the water flood her mouth. She coughed, sputtered, bloody water sprayed everywhere.

The Templar reached out, taking the skein from her hands and she felt the tears again. The thin reed straw she used for years was gone. Forever lost to her. She shrunk away from him, from the fire. A thought. That was all it would take. Follow the way of the Qun.

Without honor. Because a mage, by rights, had none.

Why couldn’t he have just killed her when he found her behind the crates?

She bowed her head and pressed up against the rock wall, her chains rattling.

 

Cullen didn’t know what he was doing. He’d tried very hard not to think about the woman he’d left in the sand hours earlier as he went about his business, but he kept seeing her face. Her eyes full of fear. Even as he had packed up a small bag, he told himself he wasn’t actually going to go back out to the Wounded Coast.

Yet, he had. He’d sneaked past patrols and made the trek in the dark to the cave. For a mage. A Qunari mage at that. He’d seen the bodies of all the men, women and children who had been killed by them. If anyone else from Kirkwall found her, she’d be dragged back to town and he imagined it would be the same thing would happen. She’d be dragged into the street and beat to death. “Maker’s breath, what am I doing?” he asked himself as he found the small cloth in the bag.

He looked back at her. “Do you have a name? I’m-” he pursed his lips, scooting closer. Cupping her jaw again with a careful hand, he used the cloth to wipe away the water and blood that still stained her face. “My name is Cullen,” he said, meeting her gaze.

Still, no reaction. She just watched him. “I am out of my mind,” he continued. “Bringing you out here was a mistake. Killing you outright when I found you would have been the kindest thing. Saving you was not an act of mercy. But you have not lashed out, even when attacked. I don’t-” he shook his head. “Mages should be locked up, but I cannot abide unwarranted torture and were you in the Circle in Kirkwall, that is undoubtedly what you would receive.”

The chains rattled as she lifted one hand very slowly. Cullen braced himself, ready for an attack, but instead, she reached out with long slender fingers and skimmed them over the hilt of his sword, before raising her hand up to tap her throat. _“Asit tal-eb. Katara Saarebas,”_ her voice was a rasp of sound, barely a whisper as she spread her hand over her chest. “ _Taashath-eb, taashath-eb. Nehraa aqun ebra kata_.” She reached out again, fingers of one hand curling around the pommel, while her other pressed to her throat again. “ _Katari_.” Her eyes slid shut. _“Taashath-eb,_ ” she murmured quietly, again and again.

Cullen brushed her hand away from the sword and she tilted her head back farther, baring her throat. Was she asking him to kill her? He wished he understood what she was saying. Saarebas was the only word he’d grasped.

“ _Taashath. Taashath-eb Saarebas._ ”

“Taashath,” he said, fumbling slightly over the strange sounding word. A name, perhaps? Her eyes opened. “Do you want to die?” he asked, though he knew she didn’t understand.

Did she believe he’d brought her out here to be cruel and to do unspeakable things? Is that why she asked for death? But still, she hadn’t retaliated. The chains? He wondered, were they somehow hindering her magic? He hadn’t figured out how to completely free her from the chains, but he could at least break the ones linking her to the collar.

“I will not kill you,” Cullen said, getting to his feet. She tilted her head back, staring up at him. He pointed at her. “Taashath?” she nodded her head, slowly. He gestured to himself. “Cullen.” He grabbed the tools from his pack. “Come on, let’s get you out of those chains.”


	3. Chapter 3

She was trembling. Trying so hard not to cry as the chains that she’d worn for most of her life broke. Holding herself as still as she could while Cullen worked, she bit down hard on her tongue to hold back the tears. What did he plan to do with her? Saarebas wondered, so confused.

First, he snapped one of the links connecting her right hand to the collar around her neck. Then the left. Then the blonde Templar with the haunted eyes lifted the collar up and over her head. It fell to the sand with a soft thump and she tried to stifle the gasp.

For years she had worn the collar. Released only temporarily for bathing. Still, she was watched. Never alone. Never free. She was a monster always a breath away from becoming a demon… or so the Qun believed. Who was she to argue? Death or the chains. Those had been her only option in life. And now, now she had no idea what was going to happen.

She felt bare, exposed and naked. The bands of steel around her wrists remained, but with the weight of the collar off her shoulders, she felt as if she could simply float away. A tear escaped down her cheek and she quickly ducked her head down. Why would he do this? She needed to know, but without the words, she knew she would have to just wait and see.

“Taashath,” he said and she peered up at him. It was dark, but the moon was full and bright in the sky. The word sounded strange on his tongue. Did he know what the word meant? Or was he just repeating it because she’d said it? He gestured to the cave and she pushed back up to her feet and followed. She’d never had a name. As a child, before the magic, Tama called her Imekari. A child. Nothing more. Then she was Saarebas. A reminder of what she was and the evil that lived inside her.

She truly did not understand why this Templar, keeper of mages, would call her anything else. But humans had names. All different. All so confusing. Back in the cave she sipped the water as slowly as she could, though she wanted to gulp it down, and watched the Templar, Cullen. He had begun muttering and pacing the small space.

Every now and then he would pause and look at her as if waiting for a response before he began pacing again. She only caught a few words here and there. Qunari. Kill. Kirkwall. Mage. Templar. Death.

Then he left. Disappeared into the night. Would he return again? She had nowhere to go and didn’t know what she was supposed to do. After a while, when it was clear he’d left, she cautiously reached for the bag and peered inside. A shirt, a washed out blue linen shirt lay neatly folded at the bottom of the bag, beside a pouch that held dried meat and hard bread.

Her fingers grazed over it and she knew that she couldn’t eat it, though her mouth watered. Tugging out the shirt, her eyes constantly darting to the opening of the cave, fear of being caught nagging at her. The fabric was soft and worn and smelled pleasantly clean. She moved slowly, the strangeness of not wearing the chains made movement feel weird. Untying the laces at the collar as much as she could, she lifted the shirt up over her head, angled it, her fingers grazed over one horn, then she froze when she found the broken stub of the other.

When she had been dragged from behind the boxes, she remembered the loud crack. She tilted her head from side to side, suddenly aware of its absence. She pulled the shirt over her head and tugged it down. It fit tight across her chest but was long and the sleeves hid the shackles on her wrists. Looking back at the entrance to the cave waited, waited, then finally curled up on her side next to the fire. It was warm and she felt chilled to the bone. Fingers absently reached down to trace over her thigh, the burning ache that reached nearly from her hip to her knee. Her fingers came away sticky with blood. Saarebas curled her hand into a fist and tucked it under her chin before she let her eyes slip shut. _You weren’t strong enough for the Qun anyways._

 

 

Sleep eluded Cullen, as it did most nights. He couldn’t remember the last time he had truly had a good nights sleep. Years. Quite possibly before he had ever even joined the Templars. He thought of dressing, going down to the Blooming Rose. There was an elven woman there, she wore her hair short and it was almost the same color as Talon’s thought that was where the similarities ended.

He cursed quietly. That needed to end. His obsession with the mage. Both of them, apparently. The one that haunted his dreams and the one that had sat silently, golden eyes vibrant and watchful.

_Mages are dangerous._

_They should all be locked up._

_Tranquility is a kindness._

_If Meredith finds out you let the Saarebas go free, she’ll have your head._

Going back out there had been a mistake. One he would not repeat. She was not his responsibility. Tossing back the covers he sat up, raked his fingers through his hair before shoving up to his feet to pace the room. The Qunari were a dangerous people. That Saarebas, _Taashath_ , was that even her name? She was no different. They are heathens. Monsters. They would have seen the Chantry destroyed.

Her fear changed nothing. She was alone. She should fear. Maybe it had been a ploy. Killing her would have been a kindness that she didn’t deserve. I should have taken her to the cellars. It didn’t matter now though. She was gone. He would not return to the Wounded Coast. What happened to Taashath was the Will of the Maker.

Cullen rubbed his hand over his face, knew he would not sleep that night and dressed without thought before he walked through the empty streets of Kirkwall. He avoided eye contact with everyone as he stepped into the Blooming Rose and walked up to the counter where the bored woman stood. “Your usual, love?” she asked. “Iseril just finished up with another client, she’ll be down in a few.” Finding a chair in the corner of the room, he sat and rested his head in his hands.

Self-loathing had become a constant companion for him. Being a Templar was nothing like he’d imagined as a child. But he had dedicated so much of himself to it. He’d given up everything because he believed in it. Believed that at the core, they were good. They served a purpose.

Mages are dangerous.

He’d seen it first hand. So much of it. Nearly broke. Watched his friends die. Talon’s fingers traced his jaw as she licked his throat. But it wasn’t Talon. _Demon_.

A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked in response. Iseril stood over him. All of her was softer than Talon. Her features more rounded, her eyes a vibrant purple. “Knight-Captain,” she murmured, a slight lisp to her voice. “I thought you said you weren’t coming back here.” Iseril climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs right there in the middle of the common room. It wasn’t unusual for the patrons of the Rose, but it made Cullen deeply uncomfortable.

Full breasts pressed against his chest as she shifted closer, one hand sliding behind him to grip the back of the chair, while the other slid into his tangle of curls. “That business with the Qunari...” she trailed off and he caught grief in her eyes for a moment. Many had died. “You Templars… you…” she clenched her jaw, looked away. “What do you want tonight, Knight-Captain. A quick suck? Or a fuck? Gonna bend me over the table? I know you like that one. Take me against the wall?” She was rocking her hips slightly as she spoke. His body reacted, though he’d never felt less turned on than he did at that moment.

There was a haunted, empty look in her eyes. Who had she lost? Iseril took his hand as she climbed out of his lap and he allowed her to lead him up the stairs. She closed the door and then turned to face it, giving him her back as she shrugged out of the dress and angled her ass back toward him.

Cullen hated himself for the way he used her. But he paid. He’d never struck her, but he allowed himself to bury himself in her body, to press his face into her hair and pretend as he pounded into her, flesh slapping loudly in the otherwise silent room. One hand curled over her hip, angling her hips just right, while the other braced beside her head against the door.

He hoped that at least she found pleasure in these trysts. He did try to make it good for her. His fingers on her clit as he drove into her, and chased the moment of bliss. Cullen jerked his hips back, took his cock in hand and squeezed, jerking hard as he came, streams of cum splashing across her rear, while his other hand continued working her clit.

Iseril jerked, made a quiet sound and her hands slapped hard against the door as she arched her back. Her harsh breaths echoed his own for a moment until he heard the quiet, broken sob. “Iseril, did I-”

She whirled around, her hand slapping loud against his cheek. His head snapped to the side and his ears were ringing. “Fucking Templars,” she spat out, shoved his shoulders. “You were supposed to keep the city safe!” She struck out again, and this time Cullen caught her wrist, then the other when she brought it up too. “Where were you!?” she yelled, thrashing against him.

“Who died?” he asked. “Who did I fail to save? I have an ever growing list,” he said with a sigh and she sagged.

“Ashaya,” she said, brokenly.

Cullen closed his eyes. One of the other elves at the Rose. One he’d spent more than a handful of nights with himself. He cursed quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Iseril said quickly, trying to pull her hands free from his grasp. “Please, please don’t tell Madam Lusine… she’ll have me out on my ear in a heartbeat. Keep the money, come back any time, no charge, just please don’t tell her-”

He didn’t believe he’d ever felt so low as he did at that moment. Bile burned his throat. He released her and she stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, please,” Iseril begged, face tipped back to look up at him. Big eyes, full of fear.

“Iseril, stop,” Cullen said, tucking himself back into his trousers and finding the coin purse. It held more than what a night with her would cost, but what did it matter? He pressed it into her hand.

“No, you-” she blinked at him.

“Just take it,” he said, stepping around her and heading for the door. At least there was one person he could help, though he knew it wasn’t much, knew it would never make up for what happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Cullen held Iseril as she wept in sorrow and relief. Once she finally calmed down he left her. The streets of Kirkwall were just beginning to fill with shopkeepers. Despite the tragedy of what happened, life had to go on, even with the cobblestones still stained red.

He glanced toward the corner where the crates the Saarebas hid behind still sat, though haphazardly now. He crossed over to them, knowing he shouldn’t. There was blood. Hers. Smeared on the boxes and the stones. A slightly curved black object drew his attention. It was jagged on one end, curving to a tapered point on the other.

Her horn.

_Drop it_ , he told himself. _Throw it in the trash._

But instead, it ended up in his pocket.

For four days he told himself he would not return. He dealt first hand with the aftermath of the atrocities the Qunari had committed. He watched a mage, barely fifteen, turn to blood magic and be submitted to the Rite of Tranquility.

The Qunari were barbarians. Mages a curse upon all of Thedas.

But still, gold eyes haunted him.

Four nights, he talked himself out of going back to the Wounded Coast, but he reasoned with himself. He needed to go, because surely she had fled, and he needed make sure there was no evidence of her ever having been there. So late that night, when the respectable parts of town slept, he sneaked out and made his way to the cave.

It was dark. No fire burned. She left, he told himself and reminded himself that he should be glad. Or, someone had come along and slit her throat. Or, she could just be sleeping. “Taashath,” he called softly into the cave, received no answer. Cullen fumbled for the lantern that hung from the post on the wall, fished out a match and lit it.

He blinked several times as his eyes adjusted and he took in the scene before him. The fire had indeed burned out. Beside it, lay Taashath, the Qunari woman. A sour feted smell made him gag and he closed his eyes. Dead. She was dead. “Maker’s breath,” he whispered, setting down the lantern beside her head as he moved closer.

She was curled in on herself as much as possible, hands tucked up beneath her chin. He’d recite a blessing, undeserved, but- his fingers curled over her bare shoulder, the collar of the shirt slipped down, gaping open, and quickly jerked his hand back. He’d anticipated the feel of cold skin. Not heat. Burning fever. “Taashath,” he said again, rolling her to her back, one hand slid along the back of her neck, the other touched her jaw.

Her lips were chapped, bloody and peeling. Her eyes fluttered but didn’t open. He surveyed the length of her body quickly, found the source of the rotten stench and the cause of her fever. A gash on her thigh, spanning from knee to hip. Cullen had no healing tonic on him, no supplies, and he knew the pack he’d brought her days ago held none. He’d have to hurry, slip back into the city, get supplies and return.

_No_ , that little voice in his head insisted. _Put your palm on her face, cover her nose and mouth, it would be a peaceful death. She’s not even conscious._

He looked up, eyes still closed, lips parted, her breathing sounded painful, ragged. Slowly, Cullen lifted his hand fingertips grazing her lips until his palm covered her mouth. Just a pinch. He could press his thumb and index finger to either side of her nose. It would be over in a matter of minutes.

Gold eyes fluttered open. She held his gaze. “I’ll be back soon,” Cullen found himself telling her. “I’ll get you a healing tonic, and bandages-” She closed her eyes again. His chest felt tight and it was difficult to breathe as he hurried back to Kirkwall, gathered what supplies he could and rushed back to the cave on the Wounded Coast.

Cullen knelt down by her head. She hadn’t moved and he wondered if he was too late, if the tonic would do anything. A proper healer… but that wasn’t an option. He slid his hand to the back of her neck, lifted her head up as he pressed the healing tonic to her lips. Getting the woman to drink the tonic seemed to take hours. First, she refused, turned her head away every time he pressed the vial to her lips. Cullen tried to reassure her, though he knew the words were useless.

But finally, he got her to drink it. He built up the fire before crouching by her knee. “If I don’t tend to this, the healing tonic you just drank will be pointless,” he said, then tugged apart the fabric tearing open the fabric to reveal the gash in her leg.

 

Humans were strange, she thought as she’d watched the Templar Cullen clean, stitch and bandage her wound. His touch had been gentle and it made her heart beat funny in her chest. He kept lifting his head, meeting her gaze and speaking before going back to his task. Though she truly did not understand why.

She didn’t mind that he called her Taashath, or that the last few times he had come, he’d shortened it, called her Taasha. He spoke often, sometimes he didn’t stop talking the entire time he was there. The words still made little sense, rarely she picked up one she understood. He was tired, she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. Cullen would rake his hands through his hair, rub the back of his neck, pace the small cave, or sometimes they would walk the short distance to the little creek that fed into the sea.

She talked too, sometimes. Her words quieter. Confessions of her sins and failures. He listened, though she knew he didn’t understand what she said. The only reason she said anything and she believed it was the same for him.

Voices outside the cave had her heart pounding in her chest. It was still light out, Cullen never came before nightfall and he always came alone. Two shadows at the entrance. One male, one female. Taashath sat frozen, waiting. The fire burned beside her and it would only take them a moment to see her.

The pair ducked into the cave and Taashath instantly recognized them. She scrambled backward, wishing the cave was deeper. Wishing she could vanish into it. That it would swallow her whole. The woman, with her long red hair, looked startled for a heartbeat, then Taashath felt her reaching for her magic. Felt the vibrations of it, though the woman didn’t attack her, she stood poised to. The white-haired elf drew the massive sword and Taashath pressed back into the wall, fear choking her.

Taashath remembered them. Knew she would be no match for them even if she wanted to fight. For a moment, she wondered what Cullen would think when he returned to find her dead because she couldn’t imagine the two who had saved Kirkwall from the Qunari invasion, would let her live. Clenching her eyes shut she held her breath and waited. The two exchanged quick words, and Taashath wished they would just get it over with because tears burned the backs of her eyes and she would not cry.

“What are you doing here?” The elf asked and Taashath’s eyes flew open. He spoke Qunlat. “How did you get here? I remember you in Kirkwall. Saarebas.” They exchanged more words and she watched their stances change slightly, he shifted closer. “Answer me, or I will kill you.”

“You should,” she whispered, saw his brow furrow slightly. “You killed my kith. You should have killed me too.”

“Is that a threat?” he snarled, taking another step closer.

The woman, the mage with the red hair and the magic that made Taashath’s stomach twist with fear, touched his shoulder. Spoke to him quietly.

Taashath shook her head. “No, no. Saarebas. Evil lives inside me. No control rod, no Arvaarad. The Templar won’t kill me.”

“Templar?” the woman inquired, pushing past the elf, much to his obvious annoyance.

 

Sienna Hawke stared down at the Qunari woman. She was clad only in a tunic that barely reached her thighs. She sported a large bandage on her thigh and her wrists were still shackled, though free from the chains that had been around her neck. A Templar? “Thrask?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Fenris. “He’s the only one… unless...” she looked back at the Qunari. Unless the Templar had ulterior motives. Her lack of clothing made Sienna wonder and grit her teeth. “Ask her,” she told Fenris, who had tugged her a step away from the cowering woman.

Fenris spoke, the woman pressed her lips into a thin line, obviously refusing to answer. Fenris spoke again, words harsher this time. “Fenris,” Sienna sighed. “You’re scaring her.”

“She’s dangerous,” he snarled. “An unbound mage-” he broke off, grit his teeth.

Sienna couldn’t deny the pain his words caused. Considering how he felt about magic, it was a wonder he had ever slept with her, let alone still fought by her side. “And she hasn’t attacked us yet.” With a sigh, she turned back to the Qunari and sunk down into a crouch. “Who brought you out here?” she asked, voice gentle. “Fenris, please.”

After a moment, Fenris spoke, his voice stilted but calmer. Still, the woman refused to answer. “Do you have a name?” Sienna pointed to her chest, “I’m Sienna, this,” she gestured behind her, “is Fenris. You?” she asked, pointing at the woman.

Fenris translated, after a long moment the woman spoke. “Taashath.”

“Taashath? Well, that’s pretty.”

“It means… calm,” Fenris said with a frown.

“Well.” Sienna glanced around. A leather pack sat near the fire, along with a blanket and a small pot. “Cozy little set up you have here.” She pushed up to her feet. Sienna wanted to know who the Templar who had _saved_ her was. Whoever it was, she didn’t trust them, and for some reason, despite all that had happened in Kirkwall, when she looked at Taashath, Sienna wanted to protect her. The Qunari, a mage, who stood probably at least a whole head taller than her. The idea made her want to laugh. “We’ll leave,” she said, though she would come back. She’d wait until the Templar returned and she would find out what was going on. “Do you need anything?”

Though it seemed as if she had the bare necessities. Taashath didn’t reply to Fenris’ question. “Let’s go, Fenris,” she said.

“You’re just going to leave her here?” he asked. “She’s-”

“An unbound mage, I know, you mentioned that. Yes,” she said and headed for the opening of the cave. She ducked her head and squinted at the bright sun, reflecting off the waves. Her chest hurt and she reached up, absently rubbed her sternum. Sienna didn’t know why she tormented herself with Fenris’ company. Why she always asked him to accompany her. Or why he still continued to do so.

He caught up quickly as she began walking away from the cave, back toward one of the paths that lead to Kirkwall. “That isn’t what I meant,” he said.

“Hmm?” she made a sound, didn’t look at him as he fell into step beside her.

“Hawke,” he said, then when she didn’t respond, he caught her arm, tugged her to face him. “Sienna.” His gaze was soft and it made her heart melt. She hated when he looked at her like that because she loved it. “That isn’t what I meant,” he repeated. “I don’t trust her, but I trust a Templar that secreted a mage away from Kirkwall even less.”

His hand still curled around her bicep and he stood so close, it took everything in her not to reach out, not to tug him closer and claim his lips in a kiss that she knew would make her blood sing. “She wasn’t going to tell us who it was. But I do intend on finding out. Even if it means camping out on the beach until that Templar shows his face.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been trying to figure out all the dialogue... writing it from multiple perspectives and two different languages. So, bear with me, I hope it makes sense when you read through. The dialogue near the end of the chapter in italics is Qunlat.

Cullen hadn’t been able to return to the Wounded Coast, to the quiet cave, for the past two nights. Would she think that he wasn’t coming back? What did it matter if she did? He brought her food, changed the bandage on her thigh, made sure it didn’t get infected again. _You have no business going out there_ , he told himself, once again, and again, he ignored that little voice in his head.

It was wrong, he knew it.

But that didn’t stop him.

Small bag packed, another healing tonic, soft bread and a small bunch of bananas along with a few other little things, he made his way to the cave. “Taasha,” he said softly, ducking into the cave. She had the lantern lit and her back pressed against the wall, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her knees to her chest. He frowned. “What’s wrong?” he asked, uselessly. Cullen wished she could understand him or that he could understand her.

Taashath murmured something, meeting his gaze as he set the bag down beside her and crouched in front of her. “Is your leg alright?” he asked, reaching out to lightly touch her knee. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then shifted, stretching out her leg and for him to see. He unwrapped it, reapplied the salve, before bandaging it once again. The tips of his fingers lingered on her knee for a moment as he lifted his head.

_Wrong_ , he told himself and quickly pulled his hands away, masking the jerky movement with reaching for the bag. “I brought you something a little different this time, bread, but it’s soft, I think...” he pulled it out of the wax coated bag and held it out to her. “I think it’s soft enough. I hope...” he trailed off as she took it, slowly turning it this way and that in her hands.

She murmured something again, looked up at him and her eyes were wet. “Maker’s breath, Taashath, what is it?” He touched her jaw and she flinched away. Cullen withdrew his hands immediately. She hadn’t flinched since the first… after he’d silenced her. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t be here. I do not know why I keep returning.” He ducked his head to the bag, began unpacking it. The bundle of bananas he set aside then withdrew the healing tonic. “Drink that,” he told her, handing it to her. “You’re a mage. Mages are dangerous, they cannot be trusted. A Qunari, a Saarebas,” he glanced up at her.

Taashath held the vial in her hand, she stared at it intently for several moments. Then she popped out the cork and downed the contents in one gulp. It could have been anything, Cullen thought as he looked at her. She had no way of knowing he hadn’t put something else in there. It could have been poison for all she knew. She watched him and they both sat there for long moments. “You’re too trusting,” he rasped out. “What happens to you if I stop coming? How long until you starve, or someone else stumbles over you? Would you leave? Where would you even go?”

Cullen’s fingers found the hairbrush and the small bar of soap. It had a soft floral scent, with a hint of spice. Iseril looked perplexed when he’d asked if he could have it, but she’d shrugged. _“Sure, I don’t like that one.”_ Looking back up at Taashath he took in the tangled hair, matted with dirt, sand, and blood. The water would be freezing. But there was something about being clean, he thought. Maybe she’d feel the same way? He built up the fire while she watched him.

“Alright,” he said, then held his hand out to her. “Come on,” he waited, hand extended.

She looked between it and his face before slowly reaching out and slipping her hand into his. Her fingers were long, slender and surprisingly soft. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, stood up and helped her to her feet. The blanket fell to the ground and Cullen looked up now, to meet her golden gaze. Clothes. He’d been trying to find ones that he knew would fit her, that he could take easily. The tunic was one of his, and Maker’s breath it barely fit her.

The sleeves ended inches above her wrists and it fit right across her chest, though the loose neckline he imagined helped as it slipped off one shoulder. It barely grazed the tops of her thighs and her other pants were ruined. “I hope this helps,” he told her, picking up the satchel and leading her from the cave.

 

Sienna couldn’t believe what she was seeing. None other than Knight-Captain Cullen, the bane of her existence, was the Templar. It made her stomach twist into knots. Sienna had never liked Cullen and thought he had his head so far up his ass about the Templars and the truth about how mages were treated.

He would never help a mage. Especially not a Qunari. What twisted game was he playing at? Sex? What else could it be? She knew he frequented the Rose and that one of his favored ladies was killed in the attack by the Qunari.

She watched. They ducked out of the cave. Taashath still barely dressed, walked with a slight limp. Cullen kept stride with her as they made their way to the stream. Sienna shifted, moving to stand up from the crouch she had been in for longer than she cared to remember. Strong tan fingers curled around her forearm and she turned her face to look at Fenris.

“The Knight-Captain going missing isn’t something that would go unnoticed,” he said, voice low. A tempered reminder.

Sienna grit her teeth. “Whatever sick game he’s playing at-”

“Isn’t any of our business,” he told her calmly. “Hawke, one of these days you’ll go too far and all the good you have done for Kirkwall won’t matter any longer.”

“And? What do I have left to lose? The Templars will kill me or turn me into a Tranquil. Either way, I won’t be able to care anymore.” She tugged free of his grip and hurried in the direction Cullen and the Qunari had gone. Clenching her hand into a fist, she could still feel the warmth of Fenris’ fingers on her arm. She stayed silent as she walked, spotted the two. Taashath sat on a rock, head tilted back, eyes closed. At first, she didn’t see Cullen, then her brow knit together.

Cullen stood behind Taashath, running a brush through her hair. Sienna didn’t understand and she didn’t like it. She knew how Cullen hated mages, and to see him, seemingly doting on one, made bile burn her throat. There was nothing innocent or kind about this. There couldn’t be. She felt Fenris move up behind her. “Think about this Hawke,” he said in her ear.

“Already did,” she murmured and let her magic build in her hands. She wouldn’t attack the Knight-Captain outright, but she couldn’t play nice either. Taashath noticed Hawke first, and Sienna saw the fear in the Qunari woman’s eyes. Something she did regret. The horror spell she’d thrown at her during the battle had been strong and Sienna truly thought she’d killed her. Though at that moment, she hadn’t cared. But Taashath didn’t seem to be a bloodthirsty monster.

“Hawke,” Cullen said, putting himself between her and Taashath.

Sienna smirked and raised her brows. “Interrupting, am I? I think you should step away from the Saarebas, Knight-Captain.”

“Calm your magic, Hawke,” he said, and she wondered if he was about to try and Silence her. She’d had the spell cast on her before, hated the way it felt.

“Just what is the Knight-Captain doing out on this oh-so-romantic moonlit beach with a Qunari mage? Oh, the gossip!”

Taashath stood up, fingers curling around Cullen’s bicep. She shook her head, spoke quickly as she began backing away. “What is she saying?” Sienna asked, turning her head slightly, but not taking her eyes off the two.

“No, I’ll go. Don’t,” Fenris translated.

“Go?” Sienna asked, glancing back at Fenris. “Go where?”

He shrugged and she looked back just in time to see Taashath slip as she reached the edge of the creek. Cullen lunged for her and they both landed in the water with a splash.

 

The air left Taashath’s lungs in a rush as the water, ice cold engulfed her. A split second after she fell in, Cullen came tumbling after, causing a frigid tidal wave. Tears came, unbidden to her eyes. She was terrified. Hawke and her companion had moved closer and Taashath scrambled backward, hands slipping on the rocks. One was sharp, she felt it cut, but still, tried to put distance between her and the others.

“Taasha,” Cullen said softly, reaching for her as he knelt in the cold water.

“ _Calm yourself, mage, that Templar isn’t known for having a lenient hand,”_ the elf said and Taashath narrowed her eyes at him.

“ _And do either of you? I watched you slaughter my kind without blinking. You sit, watching me, for days.”_ He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

Cullen’s hand found her jaw, his other hand pushed the wet hair back from her face.

“She knows we’ve been watching her,” Fenris said, with a glance at Hawke.

“You’ve what?” Cullen whirled his head around to look at them. “Maker’s breath.” Taashath reached up to tug Cullen’s hand away, but she saw the blood dripping down her arm at the same moment he did, and his attention shifted. He caught her arm, cursed.

“ _Hawke only watched you out of noble intentions. She wanted to know who the Templar was that helped you. Templars do not help mages out of the goodness of their hearts. Whatever kindness this man has shown you, it isn’t real.”_

Taashath looked at Cullen, his brows drawn together as he inspected the cut. He’d submerged her hand back in the water, rinsed away the blood and discovered it wasn’t all that deep. Kindness. She didn’t think she had ever known kindness. Not since she’d been branded Saarebas. Cullen met her gaze again, and there was a softness in his eyes. Real or not, it was the only kindness she’d ever known.


	6. Chapter 6

Cullen and Sienna traded sharp words as they made their way back to the cave. By the time they got there, Taashath couldn’t stop shivering. Cullen nudged her to the fire, then grabbed the blanket. After several confusing moments, and a handful of disgusted sounds from Sienna, and finally a few words from Fenris, Taashath sat beside the fire, naked, save for the blanket wrapped around her. It wasn’t fair, Taashath thought, watching Cullen as he tended to the cut on her hand, and then checked and redid the bandage on her thigh, that she was dry and warming up, while he sat in his drenched clothes.

“What must the Knight-Commander think of her most loyal subject keeping a Saarebas as a pet? She isn’t your usual type, I hear you prefer the elven women at the Rose.” Cullen shot her a look before he pressed a mug of broth into Taashath’s hands. “Do you share her? Is that how you’re getting away with it? Everyone gets a turn-”

“That is enough!” Cullen snarled, shoving to his feet.

Sienna looked startled for just a second before she smirked. “Did you recently suffer a blow to the head? Forget who you are? You’re a Templar, she’s a mage.”

Cullen sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. Taashath reached out, lightly tugged at his pant leg and he crouched back down beside her. “And a Qunari. You know as well as I do what would have happened to her in the Circle. Meredith was very disappointed that I prevented her from making a spectacle out of Taashath.”

Sienna’s brow knit together in confusion. “What do you care? I’ve heard it from more than one Templar, that the only good mage, is a dead one.”

Cullen closed his eyes, rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he said, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. “I did bring her out here to kill her. It would have been the kindest thing-” he broke off, looked at Taashath. She was watching him and Cullen worried she saw more than she led on. “It isn’t safe for her here, but where else can she possibly go?”

“ _You said you would leave. Where would you go?”_

Taashath looked Fenris, then at Cullen and Sienna who were staring at her, waiting for an answer they wouldn’t understand. _“The Qun demands that I die.”_

“ _Do you still follow the Qun?”_

She looked down at the mug, her neatly bandaged hand. Had she ever truly followed the Qun? Yes, because she had no other choice. Because she had no way of escaping. But now she was free, wasn’t she? But what did that really mean? _“Am I free?”_

Fenris’ brow knit together. “She wants to know if she is free.”

“Of course she is,” Sienna said, then shot a glare at Cullen. “And if the Templar has any objections...” she trailed off, magic coiling in her hand.

“Hawke,” Cullen sighed, rubbing his fingers over his temples until he saw Taashath shrinking away from the fire. “Do you really think that helps?” he asked before shifting to put himself between Hawke and Sienna. He covered her hands with his. “Taashath, Taasha. She isn’t threatening you. She’s threatening me.” He squeezed her hands. “Yes, you’re free. If there is someplace you can go-”

“ _You’re as free as any mage sitting in front of a Templar. Where would you go?”_

“ _I don’t know. I cannot return to Par Vollen. I know enough to know that a beast such as myself wouldn’t be welcome anywhere else.”_

“She has no place,” Fenris said.

 

“I’ll bring her clothes, there is no reason for her to be out here half naked.”

Cullen didn’t like the implicationsHawke kept making, but he knew there was nothing he could do or say that would convince her otherwise. “I’ll pay for them. Anything that she needs. I will pay you back.”

“Really? From all the time you’ve spent at the Rose with Iseril, I thought you’d be completely spent by now. Or is it in true Templar fashion, just going in and taking what you want?”

A sigh escaped Cullen’s lips. Arguing was truly pointless. They left, with the promise to return shortly, so Cullen should definitely not try anything. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and glanced at Taashath after they were gone. “I’m sorry,” he said, not sure what he was really apologizing for. “So much for getting cleaned up, but I suppose, it wasn’t all that well thought out, was it? No clean clothes, no towel.” He pressed his face into his hands and scoffed quietly. He should just pass on the responsibility for this strange woman to Hawke. But with the way she had shied away from Hawke each time she used her magic was a concern.

“Cullen,” her voice was quiet, timid.

Dropping his hands he looked at her. She held the hairbrush out to him. He took it, stared at it then looked back up at her. He watched her shift, doing her best to stay covered with the blanket as she turned around to give him her back. “You want me to-” Maker’s breath, he was utterly foolish, he thought as he rose to his knees and knelt behind her to resume the task of brushing the tangles from her long silver hair. “I haven’t done this in ages,” he said softly. “My sisters,” he smiled a little at the memory. “They used to make me brush their hair. Mia forced me to learn how to braid hair. I always messed up on purpose, just to infuriate her.”

Once all the tangles had been combed out, he set aside the brush and gathered her hair into his hands. It took a few tries to get his fingers to remember the movements, the braids weren’t perfect and when he finished he realized he had nothing to tie them off with. He stared at the hair in his hands, then tore the hem from first one sleeve, then the other and carefully tied off the ends. The dark blue fabric was a stark contrast to her pale hair.

Taashath turned again, the blanket slipping from her shoulder as she did. He reached out, fingers curling on the edge of the fabric. Freckles. A dark smattering of them over her shoulder and along her collarbone. He tugged the fabric up, squeezed her shoulder.

She spoke softly, tipping her face up to his, the barest curve of her lips. _“Thank you.”_

Cullen wished he understood her. But no, he reminded himself. He shouldn’t want that. He hated mages. They were abominations regardless of whether they danced with demons or not. “I should leave, the sun will be up soon. I’m sure Hawke will return before long, she’ll hopefully bring you everything you might need.” He got to his feet and looked down at her. “I’ll be back tonight,” he told her, then after a moment, he slipped out of the cave.

 

“You’re quiet,” Fenris said as they made their way back to Kirkwall after dropping off supplies in the cave with Taashath.

“I am thinking, scary, I know.”

“You don’t trust Cullen.”

“Of course I don’t!” she exploded. “He has done nothing to ingratiate himself to me. I think he may distrust mages more than even you.”

“Sienna,” Fenris’ voice was all gravel.

She waved her hand, dismissively. “Well, I guess not. I can’t imagine you would go out of your way to save a stupid mage from the Rite of Tranquility.”

“Only if that stupid mage happened to be you.”

Sienna scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. More than half the trouble you get into is because of me. You really should be championing the idea.” Fenris always did move like lightning, so it really shouldn’t have surprised her when one second she was about to turn down the alley, and the next he had her pinned hard against the stone of the building. The lyrium brands in his skin glowed and it sang to the magic inside her. She held her breath. Waited.

He stared at her, intently. His breath fanned warm over her face and his grip on her wrists tightened ever so slightly. “Maybe you’re right,” he said before stepping away.

She couldn’t breathe and actually looked down to see if he had ripped her heart out without her realizing it. No blood. Her chest was whole. But she wasn’t. “I need to go see Varric,” she said in a broken rush before all but running down the alley to The Hanged Man. He wasn’t downstairs, so she made her way up to his room and knocked quickly as she leaned against the frame. Sienna’s chest hurt and she still felt like she couldn’t breathe. Looking down again, she reached up, ran her hand over her chest, just to be sure.

“Hawke,” Varric said pulling open the door. “You’re out late.”

Sienna bit her lip. It actually looked like he’d been asleep, hair tousled, cheek creased from his pillow. Her cheeks flushed and she ducked her head. “Sorry, Varric, I just-” she swallowed hard, waved her hand. “Sorry,” she repeated and took a step back.

“Wait, Hawke,” Varric caught her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“It isn’t important, it’s nothing.”

“You don’t usually drop by in the middle of the night over nothing.” He tugged and dragged her over the threshold. Once the door closed the tears came.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Sienna leaned against the door, slid down it to the floor and pressed her face to her hands. “I’m sorry. Maker, I’m so sorry.”

“Hawke,” she could hear the concerned alarm in Varric’s voice but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. He crouched down beside her, one big hand curling over her shoulder. “Breathe, Sin.”

Sienna scrubbed her hands over her face, dragged in a ragged breath and swallowed the next sob that threatened. She told him everything. About finding the Saarebas, to spending the last few nights out on the Wounded Coast with Fenris, waiting to find out who the Templar was. Varric only looked mildly surprised to find out Cullen was behind it. “You know me, I never know when to keep my idiot mouth shut. I told Fenris he should be supporting the idea of me being made Tranquil.”

Varric closed his eyes and sighed. “Sin...”

She had always thought Fenris was easy to read. But she’d had no idea what thoughts were behind the look that crossed his face. “He agreed.” Her face crumpled and a sob broke free.

“You know how the elf is-”

“Why do I do this to myself? To him? I don’t know why he still agrees to help me.” Because he loved to torture himself just as much as she did? Because on a rare occasion, she actually did something he agreed with? “I’m sorry, Varric. I shouldn’t have come here.” Her only other option was home, which, despite Bodahn, Sandal, and Orana the house was empty without her mother. Just a reminder of everything she had lost. Sometimes, Sienna wanted to burn the place to the ground.

Varric sighed and pushed up to his feet once again. “Alright, Hawke, time for bed.” For a moment she thought he was kicking her out, but she saw him pointing to the bed. “I cannot in good conscience let you go home like this. Get in bed, and don’t hog all the covers this time.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the record, I am well aware that my portrayal of Cullen is not Canon. Not for DA2-Era most definitely. I've tried, but it doesn't fit with how the story is in my head. So... sorry?

When Cullen arrived the next evening, Taashath was asleep, curled up beside the fire. There was a pillow beneath her head and the blanket she was wrapped up in looked warm. He was glad, that despite Hawke’s hatred of him, she had been willing to help. He should leave, he thought. Let her sleep. He should go back to his room at the Chantry and get some sleep himself. Instead, he sunk down near the fire, his back against the stone wall as quietly as he could.

She stirred, blinked. “Cullen?” Taashath started to push up into a sit, but Cullen reached out.

“Shh,” he murmured. “Go back to sleep,” he said, hand gently pressing against her arm. She squinted at him for a moment then her eyes fluttered and she rubbed her cheek against the pillow. After a few seconds her breathing evened out again and Cullen sighed quietly. Resting his head back against the wall he let his eyes slip shut.

It grew harder and harder every day to remind himself that this was wrong. He didn’t need to remind himself of the horrors he and countless others had suffered at the hands of mages. He still had the nightmares nearly every time he closed his eyes to sleep. _Mages are not people_ , he’d said those words once, to Hawke in fact, before he’d realized she was, in fact, a mage.

How many mages had been made Tranquil in just the last few weeks? He’d lost count. Meredith’s strict method of trying to prevent chaos and rebellion in the Circle. Her tactics were harsh and he desperately wanted to believe they were right. Being a Templar was all he’d ever wanted, and all he’d known. He had given up everything for the Order. The thought that maybe it wasn’t all he’d dreamed it to be tore at him.

Tilting his head down he looked at Taashath. It was so easy to pretend she wasn’t a mage, not once had he seen her use her magic. If it weren’t for the scars around her lips, the remaining shackles on her wrists it would be so easy to pretend. He had no business being there with her.

If someone in the Chantry found out? He would be stripped of his rank for sure. That was exactly what _should_ happen. What was wrong with him? Had he blindly succumbed to a demon? Cullen knew that he should go to Meredith, confess. She made a quiet sound, her brow furrowed and her breathing hitched. He could imagine just the torture that she would endure. Cullen reached over, his fingers smoothing over her forehead as he quietly shushed her. The crease in her brow relaxed, her eyes fluttered beneath her lids and she relaxed again.

If he sent her to such a brutal death, he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself. He continued to absently stroke his fingers through her hair, traced along the edge of her ear.

The nightmare came, like it always did.

_The magic barrier prevented him from escaping. The demon taunted him. She smiled, whispered pretty words. She slit the throats of his fellow Templars. He wore Talon’s pretty face. Slipped into his mind and touched his memories of her. “I will not give in to you!” he ground out between clenched teeth. He fell to his knees, bowed his head and prayed._

“ _Just give in, love,” Talon murmured, her lips against his ear. “Give in and we can be happy. Think of the children, the dogs we could have.” Her fingers traced along the back of his neck, her breath on his face._

Eyes snapping open, glinting gold eyes met his. He flinched, jerked away, shouted.

“Cullen,” Taashath’s voice was quiet. Her warm fingers found his wrist, curled around it loosely. “Shhh,” she breathed out, shifting to sit with her back to the wall beside him.

Cullen’s breathing was erratic as he tried to orient himself. The cave. The cave was dark, the fire had burnt itself out. It was still pitch black outside. He must have dozed off. He needed to leave. He had to- but Taashath leaned into his side. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she slid her hand into his. She was whispering something. Quiet words. They had a calming cadence to them. A spell? He half wondered as he felt his eyes falling shut once again. A song?

His breathing calmed and he sat there with his eyes closed, very aware of Taashath beside him, the warmth of her body he could feel through their clothes. Her fingers were soft as she traced them over the backs of his knuckles, the palm of his hand. They sat like that, quietly for a long while before Cullen forced himself to withdraw. “It is late,” he murmured. “I need to go.”

His eyes had adjusted to the dark and as he stood he saw her face tipped up to his. Gold colored eyes seemingly starlit. “I’ll be back tonight,” he said softly before ducking out of the cave and slipping away.

 

After Cullen left Taashath got up and moved to the edge of the cave, where she still sat in shadows but could see outside, and watch the sun creep up over the horizon. She spotted someone walking along the beach and shrunk back further until she realized it was Hawke. Though, she still wanted to hide. The woman was alone this time and looked haggard. Her eyes were red and swollen and she looked exhausted. “More stuff,” she held a bag out to her and Taashath stared at it for a long moment before taking it.

Sienna Hawke had brought her clothes and other things that she did appreciate. Peering into it, there were more clothes, a towel, and some dried fruit and meat. She’d make Cullen eat it, she thought. He hadn’t looked like he’d been sleeping or each much lately. Her fault? He came and spent nearly the entire night with her, last night was the first night he’d slept. Was he able to find time to sleep during the day? She doubted it. _“Thank you,”_ Taashath said, moving the contents of the bag and neatly folding them with the other things that Sienna and Cullen had brought her.

Cullen’s idea of her having a bath the other night had been wonderful. She found the bar of soap and gathered the towel to her chest before glancing up at Hawke. The woman looked infinitely sad. Why hadn’t Fenris come with her? She wondered. Biting her lip, Taashath looked down at her hands, the cuffs that still bound her wrists, then held them up for Hawke to see. She tapped a finger against one, then mimed opening it.

Sienna canted her head to the side then moved closer. She inspected the cuffs, then gestured to the outside. “This might hurt,” she warned, knowing that Taashath wouldn’t understand her. “I’m sorry,” she bowed her head, studied the tiny hole meant for the key and then concentrated, focusing her magic carefully.

Taashath cried out softly, her hand jerking back, but Sienna didn’t release her grip on the cuff. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, and then snap! The cuff broke open.

Taashath rubbed her wrist, inspected the little burn mark that was left before thrusting her other hand into Sienna’s. Sienna nodded, ducked her head, and this time she did better. She kept her magic from spilling through. The cuff snapped open and Taashath nearly began to weep in relief. She took the metal restraints that she had worn for so long, turned them this way and that before heading down to the water's edge. Sienna followed her silently.

Freedom. She was free. As free as a mage in front of a Templar. But she was free. No longer a part of the Qun. She had no idea what that meant for her. She had no future. Had nowhere to go. But she was free. She pulled back and hurled first one shackle then the other as far as she could into the water. The landed with a soft splash.

Anticlimactic. But they were gone. She was free. Taashath spun around and despite her lingering fear of the woman, she threw her arms around her, hugged her tightly. Sienna’s entire body tensed and Taashath quickly pulled back. _“Sorry, thank you,”_ she offered before heading back to the cave. She was going to the creek to finally get cleaned up properly. For the first time without someone watching her. A part of her wanted to run, to skip, a weight having been lifted, physical and mental.

She was free.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: Dialogue in Italics is Qunlat.

Cullen’s heart skipped several beats when he ducked into the cave and found Taashath gone. Where was she? Where would she have gone? He turned, looking across the dark beach. The moon was full and illuminated her in its glow. She sat with her back to him, on a rock, her feet dangling low enough to allow the waves to lap over them. He walked silently across the beach and climbed up onto the rock beside her. She turned her face to his as he sat down and she smiled. It was small, but her lips twisted up at the edges.

“Aren’t you freezing?” he asked, but took in her attire. She wore a skirt that was hitched up past her knees to keep it from getting wet, a long-sleeved shirt, it was loose, meant for a large man, and the blanket he’d brought her, tugged up around her shoulders like a shawl. She had bathed at some point, he realized. Her hair was free of dirt and blood though it was tangled again. Maybe that was the reason for her smile.

She leaned into him, rested her head on his shoulder, and he found himself leaning against her, his cheek pressed against the crown of her head. Taashath held up her arm and Cullen frowned, inspecting it. “What-” he broke off when he saw, or rather, didn’t see the shackle on her wrist. Lifting his head, he tugged up the sleeve of her shirt, but it wasn’t there. She held out the other hand and he repeated the action. “They’re gone,” he said dumbly.

Taashath had lifted her head, and her mouth twisted into that barely-there smile again. “Hawke,” she said quietly. “ _I no longer follow the Qun. I don’t know what it means to be free_.” She blinked rapidly, but tears quickly rolled down her cheeks She pulled back from Cullen, wiped her cheeks with the palms of her hands quickly. _“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t cry.”_ She ducked her head, shaking it back and forth as she tried to stop the tears. _“Saarebas cannot cry. They just...are to be, to obey. No emotions, it makes it easier for the demons to get inside.”_

“Taasha,” Cullen cupped her chin. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is,” he said, using his other hand the brush away the dampness. “It’s okay.”

She lifted her hand and covered his, and leaned her face into his touch. Calloused fingers and palm, but still so gentle. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched her so carefully. Touch for her in the Qun had been brusque and impersonal. Not cruel, but never kind. Cullen touched her often, almost an absentminded gesture. A brush of his fingers on her shoulder, over her hand, her knee when he checked the bandage on her thigh. Always gentle, as if she were some delicate treasure that might break. Taashath relished it.

They stayed sitting there for a while, listening to the waves lapping at the shore, before Taashath got to her feet and tugged on Cullen’s hand. They headed back to the cave and Cullen stoked the fire while Taasha dug in the bag Hawke had brought. She pulled out the jerky and the dried fruit then sunk down beside Cullen, pressing them into his hand. _“You need to eat. It’s obvious you don’t eat enough. Your cheeks are so hollow you look like a corpse.”_

“What is this?” he frowned, looking down, realized Hawke must have brought it.

“ _Eat it,”_ Taashath insisted, plucking one of the dried fruits from his hand pressing it to his lips.

“Taashath,” Cullen said, leaning his head back slightly, but it gave her the opening she needed.

“ _Eat_ ,” she repeated, pushing it past his lips. Cullen had no other choice but to chew, he did so, slowly, somewhat amused. After he swallowed, when he didn’t move to put another piece in his mouth, Taasha did.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled quietly. “I get the hint.” He took a bite of the jerky and was rewarded with a slight smile from Taashath. They sat quietly, watching each other. Her making sure he ate, him watching as she struggled to comb her hair. Finally, Cullen tugged the hairbrush from her and moved behind her. She started to object, pointing to the food he’d set aside. “I promise I’ll eat it, later.” He knelt behind her and she sighed, tilting her head back as he worked.

He brushed out the tangles, then took the time to braid it again. She held up the two pieces of fabric he’d torn from his shirt the last time he’d done this for her to tie off the ends. “ _Thank you,_ ” she murmured. Moving to sit with her back against the wall, Taashath beckoned Cullen over.

“What?” he found himself asking, though he followed. She tugged on his hand, then patted her thigh with one hand, while the other slid up along his arm and over his shoulder. Cullen’s cheeks flushed.

“ _You need to sleep, you look so tired. You’ve taken care of me it’s only fair that I return the favor. Please, let me._ ” Taashath tugged again and Cullen found himself relenting, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that shouted at him as he rested his head against the softness of her thighs. Her fingers found their way into his hair, softly combing through the tangle of curls.

She started up with that strange song again. The soft-murmured words and the gentle cadence had Cullen’s eyes slipping shut. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so relaxed.

He slept. Taashath continued to quietly sing the song that she remembered from when she was very little, and Tama would sing away the nightmares. She knew that’s what Cullen had. That night she had woken up to the sound of him talking, pleading, then shouts. But he’d been so deeply asleep she hadn’t been able to shake him awake for several minutes. Taashath didn’t know what monsters haunted him, maybe that was why he didn’t sleep?

Tilting her head down she looked at his face, relaxed, peaceful. She hoped if he dreamed they were nice.

 

They passed the next several nights in similar fashion. She fussed over him and Cullen found he liked it far more than he knew he should. His own family, his sister Mia, his mother, those were the last people to worry about his eating and his sleeping habits.

“You should learn Common, and maybe, you can teach me your language,” Cullen said as they sat beside the fire. Gesturing to the campfire between them. “Fire,” he said and her brow knit. “Fire,” he repeated. “Qunlat?” he asked, still gesturing to the burning logs.

Realization animated her face in a way Cullen had never seen. She spoke, quickly and Cullen tried to repeat it, but his tongue stuck. Taasha shook her head, repeated it a handful of times until Cullen was finally able to wrap his mouth around the word. “ _Fire_ ,” he said in Qunlat.

“Fire,” she echoed in Common. Then she grabbed the hairbrush and held it out to him, he took it. They traded new words back and forth, repeating them again and again. He saw the frustration in Taashath’s eyes when her lips wouldn’t wrap around the words she wanted to say. But she refused to give up. Conversation was still difficult, broken and stilted, but they had found other ways to communicate.

The scent of freshly baked bread caught his attention as he walked down the street in Kirkwall. He paused, contemplating. Taashath had enjoyed the bread but had only been able to eat the very center. Cullen looked over the other the other options, spotted an assortment of small pies. “What kind are they?” he asked.

“There’s berry and apple. Rhubarb is my favorite though,” the old woman said with a toothy grin.

“One of each, please,” he said, fishing the coin from his pocket. “Could you wrap them up for me? They’re a surprise.”

“Oh, of course,” she said with a wink and carefully wrapped each one in parchment, then packed them into a thick paper box. “Here you go, Ser.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said, glancing up at the sky, still hours till nightfall.

 

The sun had just barely disappeared on the horizon when he reached the cave. “Taasha,” he said, ducking inside.

She yelped in surprise, jumping and he saw a dark creature leap from her lap and dart behind the large boulder. She frowned, but then he watched fascinated as she scrambled onto her hands and knees and crawled over to the rock. “What are you-”

“Shhh,” she hissed, waving a hand at him before she started clicking her tongue and speaking softly, fingers extended.

Cullen realized he was holding his breath as he waited. What had she found? After long minutes a small kitten crawled out from behind the rock. Taasha cooed at it and gathered the tiny creature against her chest before getting to her feet. She crossed to him, smiled and presented the cat to him.

“Maker’s breath, where did you find that thing?” he asked, taking in the runt. It was small, missing part of its ear and the fur was matted. She held it up closer to him and Cullen felt like he had no other choice than to scratch the things head.

It let out a pathetic meow and swatted his hand, and he heard Taashath laugh. It was a quiet, delighted sound and it caused a strange tightness in his chest. She ducked her head down, nuzzled the kitten’s head and peered at him from the corner of her eye. “Name,” she said. “ _He needs a name._ ”

“You cannot possibly mean to keep it,” he said, disbelieving. But then, he wasn’t actually surprised. What exactly did cats eat? He wondered as he realized he’d have to acquire food for it too. With a soft sigh, he reached out and touched the top of the cats black head again. “A name,” he said. “Hairball. It isn’t much bigger than one.”

Her brow knit together and he followed her over to sit beside the fire. The kitten climbed up her chest and perched on her shoulder, causing her to smile again as she rubbed her cheek against it. “Parrot,” Cullen suggested with a quiet laugh as he set the box of pies on his other side.

“P-parrot?” Taashath echoed, then tipped her face up to the cat. “Parrot? _Is that what I am going to call you?_ ” She leaned forward slightly as the cat shifted, making himself comfortable, draped over her shoulder.

“I brought you something,” Cullen said after they had sat there for a while. “Though I don’t think you’ll enjoy it as much as your new pet.” He held the box out to her and he enjoyed the way her eyes lit up as she took it. Setting the box in her lap, and moving as little as possible so as not to disturb the now sleeping kitten, she lifted the lid.

The pies were small and smelled sweet and Taashath’s mouth watered. Pie. She knew what it was, had seen it, but didn’t remember if she’d ever had it before. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Taasha,” Cullen’s fingers skimmed over her jaw, tipping her head up, she saw the concern on his face. If it weren’t for the kitten asleep on her shoulder, she very well might have set the box of pies aside and launched herself at him, but instead, she covered his hand with hers and pressed her lips to his palm.


	9. Chapter 9

Most nights passed in the same manner as the one before. Cullen would arrive at the cave once the sun had gone down, they would share a meal and talk. They both still struggled with language, but they communicated well enough. Some nights Taashath would urge him to lay down, she’d sing and he’d sleep, usually peacefully, her cat Parrot purring away on his chest. The voice that had yelled at him for months about how wrong it was to be there, to allow her to live, had long since gone quiet.

He brought her pies and other sweets every chance he got, just to see her face light up. Cullen knew that Hawke still visited, brought Taasha new things every now and then. But there, in that cave and on that little stretch of beach Cullen could forget everything else. Forget about the past. Forget about other people. Forget what he saw happening every day in the Circle.

It was just the two of them.

The night sky was clear, and the wind cut through them, but they sat outside, heads tipped back to the sky, the thick blanket wrapped over their shoulders. Parrot dozed in Taasha’s lap and she leaned into Cullen’s side.

“ _I’m worried about Hawke,_ ” Taashath said softly. “ _She comes and visits, always alone. It looks like she barely eats, barely sleeps anymore. She’ll just sit with me. One day she wept._ ” She looked up at Cullen, almost expectantly. But she knew he didn’t understand most of her words. “Hawke,” she said, pursed her lips as she searched for the word in Common. “Ill?”

“Is she ill?” Cullen asked, a deep frown settling onto his face. “No, I don’t believe so.” But he hadn’t seen her. Hadn’t sought her out, though he did know she was still out there, trying to save the world. What did it say about him now that he worried for her? She was a mage, and she had done much to help the city of Kirkwall, had saved so many lives. But Meredith would lose her patients sooner rather than later. He made a mental note to speak to Varric, the dwarf seemed to know everything going on in the city, and beyond.

Voices cut through the night. Cullen quickly got to his feet, tugging Taashath with him. “Get back inside,” he said, nudging her toward the cave. “Hide,” he said, eyes searching the horizon. He hoped that the voices were just carrying far down the beach, that this cave would go unnoticed, but he knew that was far too much to hope for. Taasha did as he said, ducking into the cave, disappearing into the dark. He held his breath, stood still and waited.

He spotted them before they saw him, the cave. “What do we have here, boys?” one of the men asked as they approached. They were armed, heavily. Cullen was not. He’d long since stopped bringing his sword, but his hand still went to his hip and he wished he had it, though so outnumbered, he wouldn’t have stood a chance even with the weapon.

“It’s a Templar, Knight-Captain I think,” one said, training the arrow on him.

“Now, what’s a Templar doing out so late at night, don’t you have vows to keep or something?”

Cullen hoped that Taashath was far enough back, that they wouldn’t investigate the cave. “Couldn’t sleep,” Cullen said. “Came out for a walk.”

“A walk?” the leader drawled. “All by yourself?” Cullen didn’t reply, just stood straighter, grit his teeth. “Now, I think you came out here for a little assignation. Nothing wrong with that. Templar life must be taxing. But now that you’ve got company, it’s only fair that you give us a taste.”

“Your little pet hiding out in the cave? Come out, come out where ever you are, love.”

There was a quiet sound from inside the cave, it made Cullen’s heart beat wildly in his chest.

The leader smirked, headed forward, intending to pass Cullen to investigate. He struck out, not bothering to think about it. He simply acted. He threw the punch, knocking the man on his ass. The arrow narrowly missed Cullen’s head.

Before Cullen could even react, the greasy man with the bow and arrow burst into flames. He screamed for only a moment before there was nothing left of him. The other men, seven in total rushed forward, weapons were drawn. Cullen saw Taashath out of the corner of his eye, blazingly bright, engulfed in flames, her silver hair danced on an invisible breeze and her eyes had turned a glaring orange as she held out her hands.

They hadn’t stood a chance. The leader tried to run, while his companions turned to ash, but a ball of fire slammed into his back, propelling him forward. He hit the sand and didn’t move. The stench of burnt flesh hung in the air.

“Taasha,” Cullen said softly. She was trembling, the flames still licking over her from head to toe. “Calm down, Taashath, let your magic go,” he said, stepping closer to her. A knot built in his chest as she either ignored him or couldn’t hear him. He’d heard about a Saarebas wrapping themselves in flames much like Taashath was now, and incinerating themselves. He stopped in front of her, hands extended toward her. He could feel the heat. “Taasha, please,” he begged, wanting to grab her, shake her. The heat of the fire grew worse, the fabric of her skirt caught fire, and he caught the scent of burning hair.

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said, not knowing what else to do. Drawing in a breath, he pulled on that quiet reserve of power inside him. The flames went out abruptly as the Silence hit her. Taashath stood for several seconds, eyes flickering. She focused on him, then her eyes rolled back as she collapsed into the sand.

He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands finding her face. “Taasha, Taashath, darling,” he felt her pulse fluttering rapidly against his fingers. Her breathing was ragged, but she was breathing. Her singed clothes still smoldered. Cullen glanced behind him, took in the remains of the bandits. Dark stains in the sand were all that she had left. One less thing to worry about, he thought as he got to his feet and slipped his hands under her arms and dragged her the short distance into the cave.

A layer of sweat shone over her skin. “Taasha,” he said again, fingers finding her face again. He tried to ignore the melted ends of her hair, the holes in her shirt. Had she planned to kill herself? Not once had he seen her use her magic. It had startled him. She was far more powerful than he’d ever imagined. “Wake up,” he murmured. “Please, Taasha.”

But she didn’t move. Parrot let out a plaintive yowl as he butted her head with his. “She’ll be okay,” Cullen told the cat, as much as he was telling himself. Cutting off her magic like that with the Silence, cutting off her connection to the Fade, it wasn’t surprising that she was unconscious, with all the power that had been pouring out of her.

He had to leave. The trek back would have him barely arriving in Kirkwall before the sun began to rise. But still, she hadn’t woke, hadn’t stirred. Her pulse had slowed slightly, her breathing a little more even. Cupping her face between his hands he leaned down, pressed his forehead to hers. “Maker watch over you,” he said quietly. Pulling away from her caused his chest to ache. He was afraid to leave her alone. What if she died? What if she incinerated herself while he was away?

 

When Taashath woke, it was dark again. She swayed as she tried to get to her feet. She retched. The memory of the men, the screams, the look in Cullen’s eyes. A sob broke free and she pressed her face into her hands. The pain of the Silence. It was like losing a piece of her soul.

Fear in amber colored eyes, followed by steely determination.

Like ice between her eyes. Blinding pain. Then everything was gone. She gagged, heaved until there was nothing left in her belly. Still, the tears rolled down her face. Parrot’s tiny claws dug into her arm as he tried to scale her. “ _Stop, stop, I’m a monster,_ ” she sobbed, pressing her face into her hands.

The sun rose and Taashath remained in the cave. Cullen didn’t come. Nor did he show up the next night. She was afraid to reach for her magic. She knew that the connection to the Fade was there. But barely. The Silence had been so strong, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to use her magic again and was afraid to try.

Templars arrived the next morning. Taashath looked up, startled. Four men. Armored with weapons drawn. _No_ , she thought. Felt the tears roll down her cheeks. _I will not be taken_. She’d rather die. Desperate, she reached for her magic. But she barely felt the tendrils of it before the Silence stole it from her. She screamed, launched herself at them, but another spell stole the air from her lungs and she found herself on her knees, unable to move.

She watched, head tilted back, as one of the Templar’s with angled features stepped in front of her. She heard the rattling of his armor as he moved, drew up one hand and brought it down hard against the side of her face. Pain exploded and her vision went white. Tears filled her eyes and she let them slip shut. Her heart ached. She had only wanted to protect Cullen from the men who had outnumbered him.

_As free as a mage sitting in front of a Templar._

The welcomed the blackness fuzzing the edges of her mind. Wished it would take her away completely because she knew that whatever these Templars had in store for her, would make her pray for death.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is just sort of how my life seems to go. I'll be moving, again, here in a few weeks. Hopefully for the last time in a while. But, I'll be staying with family and short on space, so writing might be hard to do until I've gotten into my own place. Long story short, I'm frantically trying to write as much as I can before I have to pack up my stuff again. 
> 
> So updates might be pretty sporadic(or nonexistent) for the next month or so.

 

* * *

Cullen was at his wit's end. The young Templar recruit that Meredith had assigned to him had been with him nearly every second of the day for the past three days. Apparently, there was a mix up with the boy's room arrangements and he’d been bunking with Cullen, keeping him from being able to go back out to the Coast to check on Taashath.

He couldn’t even try to deny his worry for her. What had she thought when she’d woken? Had she woken? Dread was a ball that sat heavy in his stomach. He’d go tonight, Maker help him, no matter what it took. He’d give the boy a task. Something, anything.

The morning ticked by slowly, standing as a presence outside the Chantry. The boy reminded Cullen of himself at that age, so eager to learn, to be a Templar.

“Knight-Captain,” Meredith said as she crossed to where Cullen stood. “A few moments of your time, if I may.”

“Of course,” Cullen nodded, glanced at Oliver. Opened his mouth to tell him to wait there.

“No,” Meredith said. “He should come too. I think it is an important thing for a new recruit here to see.”

That gave Cullen a moments pause, and the dread he’d been feeling grew worse. “Of course,” he said and they walked with her into the bowels of the Circle. A heavy wooden door, with a massive lock. Cullen’s throat felt tight as Meredith pulled out the key and unlocked it.

“Follow me,” she said stepping into the room. It was surprisingly well lit, Cullen noted before it began spinning around him at what he saw in the center of it. A Qunari woman, with raggedly short silver hair, knelt in the middle of the room. Each wrist bound in heavy chains secured her to the wall. Two Templars stood in the room and he could feel the Silence they were both casting over her.

Over Taashath. Cullen swallowed, realized Meredith was talking. “anonymous tip, found it holed up in a cave on the coast. You took one of those things out to the Wounded Coast, didn’t you, Captain?”

Cullen struggled to tear his eyes away from Taasha. There was a pool of blood on the floor beneath her, and her head dipped forward. Unconscious? Andraste. The urge to draw his sword and strike them all down, beat heavy in his veins. “Yes,” he said.

“Killed it?”

“Beheaded it, Knight-Commander,” Cullen said, trying to keep his voice even.

“Hm,” she hummed quietly.

Taashath stirred, groaned quietly and slowly lifted her head.

“It hasn’t spoken, I wondered if its tongue had been cut out, as they do that sometimes, but no. Could just be too stupid. But once we are done questioning it, I’m undecided as to what to do with it. Public execution or have it made Tranquil. Though if it is too dumb to speak, the Rite of Tranquility would be little help, other than to prove a point to the Qunari, that they are not above the Maker.”

Taashath met Cullen’s gaze and bile burned his throat. Her face was a mess of bruises. Blood dripped from a gash on her swollen cheek. One eye couldn’t even open. But the one that did, Maker’s breath. Glittering gold and full of despair. A tear rolled down her cheek, then she lowered her head again.

The next several hours were a blur. He and Oliver left and all Cullen could think about was how could he save her? Short of storming into the room himself, which would only end up getting them both killed. _Hawke_.

“Knight-Captain,” Oliver said quietly.

“What?” it came out more snarl than anything. The boy paled.

“That… that Qunari. The Saarebas. Is that… what we do?”

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked, turning his head to look at him. They had been heading down to the mess hall for a dinner that Cullen knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach.

“Torture mages?”

Cullen swallowed hard. “What do you think of the Knight-Commander’s plans? Tranquility or public execution?”

Oliver was practically squirming, ducking his head and avoiding meeting Cullen’s gaze.

“Recruit,” Cullen barked out sharply. “The Rite or a public death?”

After a beat, Oliver straightened his spine. “Neither, Ser. I don’t-” he broke off. “Templars are supposed to protect. To keep the mages safe from themselves, and others safe from mages. I wasn’t here during the Qunari attack, but I heard about it. Did she even participate? I heard they were all killed, already.”

“She’s a mage, doesn’t that make her guilty enough already?” Cullen asked.

“No, Ser, I don’t believe it does. The Rite of Tranquility, as I was taught, is supposed to be a last resort. When a mage has no control of their own ability and connection to the Fade. Not as a punishment for misbehaving. But, maybe I was misinformed.”

Cullen stared at the boy. Barely more than a child. “No,” Cullen said quietly, with a shake of his head. “You are correct. But, it isn’t always that way in the real world. Mages lose control, they turn to dark deeds, blood magic and deals with demons-”

“My sister is a mage, Ser. She’s lost control a time a two. But she’s a fine healer. She says there is nothing the demons can offer her that would make her allow them in. She’s not afraid.”

“Where is she?” Cullen asked, curious.

“In a Circle, small town, small circle. Only a handful of Templars, a couple of older mages.”

“I hope, for both of your sake, that nothing ever happens to change that viewpoint. Go on to supper. I have a personal errand to see to.” Once the boy was down the hall, Cullen rubbed his hands over his face. “Taasha,” he breathed out her name, the regret tangible. It was his fault. Had she still been unconscious when they found her? Did she blame him? It was his fault, after all, wasn’t it?

He made his way to the Hanged Man, hoping that Hawke might be there. He knew she frequented it, as Varric lived upstairs. Not finding her down in the bar he climbed the stairs and banged on the door. “Well, if it isn’t the esteemed Knight-Captain, what brings you knocking on my door at this hour?”

“A word, dwarf,” Cullen said, shouldering his way inside. He glanced around quickly, his heart sinking when he didn’t see Hawke.

“Yes, please, of course, come in,” Varric said sarcastically, swinging the door shut. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t off you a drink.”

“Where is Hawke?” Cullen asked.

“Not here. Haven’t seen her.” It was a lie and they both knew it.

Cullen shook his head, beginning to pace the room. “Please, Varric, this is… she is the only person I trust to do this.”

Those words caught Varric’s attention. “Let me get this straight, Curly. You just said you’d trust a mage. Are you feeling alright?”

“I assume you know of the Qunari woman on the coast.” Varric inclined his head. “She was discovered, somehow. Now she is locked in a cell below the Chantry, with only Tranquility or death to look forward to.”

“What does Hawke have to do with any of this?” Varric asked warily.

“I need Hawke to get Taashath out. I… Whatever it takes, whatever Hawke wants. If it is money-”

“The girl isn’t short or funds these days, Curly.”

“Anything,” Cullen said. “I don’t care what she wants, I’ll see that she gets it if she does me this one favor.”

Varric rubbed his hand along his jaw. Cullen was well known as someone who would strike down a mage as soon as look at them. “What is so important about this Qunari?”

“She’s-” my friend? It sounded so silly. Ridiculous. “Because this is my fault. I thought I was providing a mercy, but I should have sent her away once I’d gotten her out of the city.”

“But my question is, why did you? Get her out that is? A Qunari and a mage?”

Cullen raked his hands through his hair. He couldn’t explain it to himself, let alone someone who didn’t like or trust him. “Please,” he said again. “Give Hawke the message. I… anything that she wants. Just get Taashath out of Kirkwall alive.”

“I can’t make any promises that she’ll do it, but I’ll relay the message.”

“Thank you,” Cullen headed for the door, paused with his fingers on the handle. “It is rather urgent. There are two Templar guards, holding her in a Silence at all times. The door is locked, Meredith has the only key that I know of.”

“That should be a snap,” Varric muttered sarcastically, then watched Cullen leave. It was awfully involved to just be a trap to get their hands on Hawke. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and looked up as Hawke practically tumbled out of the closet. “What do you make of this?” he asked as she stood up, brushing herself off.

“It’s true, she’s gone. I went out there this morning, looked like something major happened. Blood. Scorch marks in the sand, not much left of a few men. Not Templars though. Bandits probably.” Sienna frowned.

“He said he trusts you. Only you, to do this.”

“I know,” she waved a hand. “But the man hates me as much as I hate him.”

“But if he’s serious-”

“He hates mages,” Sienna said through gritted teeth then headed for the door.

“So,” Varric said, sinking down at his table. “When are you rescuing the Qunari?”

“I’m going to go talk to Anders, see if he has any ideas for getting her out of the city. I’ll let you know.”

“Speed is of the essence, Sin.”


	11. Chapter 11

Sienna went and spoke with Anders first, who said he had someone who might be able to help, someone who had traveled with a Qunari for a time years earlier. Then she went to Fenris’ because he spoke Qunlat. Because he could be essential to rescuing the woman. Because she missed him so much her chest ached with it.

She had seen Fenris in passing but hadn’t called upon him to help her with any of her disastrous deeds. It had been weeks. Sienna knocked, waited. Knocked again. Still nothing. Sighing, she shoved open the door and walked inside. It was cold and dark like it always was. Thick dust coated everything in the entryway. “Fenris?” she called out. “It’s…” _the biggest mistake you ever made_ , she thought wryly. “It’s me. Are you home?”

Sienna padded farther inside, headed up the stairs. The door was open and she could see the light from a fire in the master bedroom. “Fen-” He sat in the big chair in front of the fireplace, the neck of a wine bottle clutched in his hand.

“What?” he asked, not tearing his gaze away from the flames.

Continuing into the room she crossed over to sit on the footstool between him and the fire. “Is everything okay?” she asked, ashamed of the blatant worry that came through in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I hear you’ve been out running hither and thither with Anders and Sebastian.” Sienna’s cheeks flamed hot. Was he jealous? But why would he be? There was no reason for it. “Even a blind man can see how the mage pines for you.”

She let out a breath. “I don’t-” it wasn’t that she didn’t care. Anders was her friend, a dear one. But her heart, Maker, all it wanted was the brooding elf.

“Why are you here, Hawke?”

“I wanted your help. It’s...” she trailed off. “Never mind.” Sienna got to her feet. “I shouldn’t have come here, I know your views on mages.”

When she felt the back against her wall, Sienna wondered what the hell was wrong with her that she liked it so much when Fenris pressed her up against them? Because it reminded her of that night, when he’d lifted her off her feet, pinned her to the wall and pounded into her like there was no tomorrow. “Tell me,” he said, and she felt his breath on her face.

Sienna blinked a few times, realized her eyes had slipped shut. “Taashath, the Saarebas Cullen was keeping. He says she was taken by Templars. He asked me to rescue her.”

“You’d be stupid to do it. Walking into a place of _Templars_ , to rescue a _mage_?” The disgust was written all over his face and it still hurt, though she thought she should be numb to it by now.

Not for the first time, she wished things were different. Wished she wasn’t a mage. Wished she’d never met Fenris and fallen ass over teakettle for him. “I know, but on the off chance that for whatever reason, this mage is important to him… I can’t not try.”

“You hate him.”

She nodded a little. She did. Cullen had always made it clear he thought of mages as _less_. “But I would hate myself more if I let her die when I could have saved her.” Tears burned the backs of Sienna’s eyes. “I’m sorry for asking you to involve yourself. I thought it might make things easier, but-” she broke off. “It was stupid.” She ducked under his arm and all but ran. Because she was childish. Because running was so much easier than telling Fenris that she loved him.

 

 

It took nearly a week for Sienna to work out all the details. She’d scouted out the cells below, hated that it involved crawling through the sewer, but she’d do it. Anders’ friend was supposed to meet them on the outskirts of town and they would take the Qunari far away from Kirkwall. Sienna pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and anxiously jiggled her leg. Varric and Anders would be there any minute, and then they could get it over with.

She sent up a silent prayer to the Maker that this wasn’t some elaborate trap just to get her into the Circle. She was terrified that if she went in there, she wouldn’t come back out. His footsteps were silent. She didn’t know he was there until he was right beside her. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, staring wide-eyed at the love of her life.

“If you insist on this fool's errand, I will be at your side.”

“Fenris,” she shook her head. He claimed her mouth, hard. One hand caught in her hair and held her against him, while his tongue plundered. When Fenris broke away, the lyrium embedded in his skin was glowing. “Fenris,” she said again, softer now. He still had her hair wrapped around his fist and tugged her head down to press their foreheads together.

“You are _my_ idiot mage,” he said softly. Sienna nearly wept, pressing her hand to his chest. “And if you are going to do this, put yourself at risk, once again, for someone, I will be beside you.” Her jaw trembled and she closed her eyes.

 

Taashath had long since stopped crying. She had no tears left in her. She felt hollow. Separate from the pain. They beat her, questioned her, kept her connection to the Fade locked away. But it all felt distant. Cullen had come. He’d been there. He’d stood feet away and looked at her like she was nothing.

All she had wanted was to protect him. She’d thought… stupid. She was stupid.

_How long until they_ _would end_ _it_? She wondered. Death or Tranquility. She prayed for death. To any Gods that might listen. If she could aggravate one of the guards, maybe he’d lose his temper. That one from the first night, the one who hit her first. It wouldn’t take much to enrage him. But he wasn’t there. It wasn’t his turn to watch over her.

She struggled to lift her head, looked at the two men in front of her. One was quiet. Had never participated in the _questioning_. But maybe. She stared at him with the one eye that still worked. Her head felt so heavy, keeping it upright hurt. But it wasn’t long until he noticed her staring.

“Oy! Knock it off!” he snapped, glaring at her.

“ _Just kill me. End it already,_ ” the words were barely a rasp beyond a dry tongue and cracked lips.

“Shut up,” he said, looking at his comrade.

“ _If I ever get out of here,_ ” she croaked, though she knew she wouldn’t. Not with her mind intact anyways. “ _I will come for you. I will kill you. Burn you alive. You and every other_ Templar _._ ”

He caught the word Templar, his eyes widened and she saw the panic. “Shut your trap, bitch,” he hit her hard enough that her head snapped to the side. Taashath bit her tongue and blood filled her mouth.

“ _Just let up that Silence a bit more,_ ” she said, spitting the blood at his feet. “ _I_ _will_ _kill us all._ ”

He hit her again and she heard something crack. Her vision went white and she couldn’t breathe. Then there was a familiar voice.

“Taashath.” Red hair was a blur. The Templars shouts were cut off. The elf. Two others she didn’t recognize. But they were there, they broke her free from the chains.

“ _Be calm_ ,” Fenris said, his face coming into focus. “ _You need to stop that right now, Hawke is trying to save your life_.”

“ _I want them to suffer_ ,” she breathed out, " _as I have._ " Taashath could feel the heat. The Silence was gone, her connection to the Fade was tangible. Her magic returned to her with a blissfully painful jolt through her entire body. “ _They all have to pay,”_ she said through gritted teeth.

 

Cullen stood, once again, before the Chantry, Oliver not far from his side. He hadn’t slept more than a handful of minutes at a time. He had been trying to figure out a way to get down to see Taashath, to let her know that help was coming. But there wasn’t. Not without giving himself away.

He’d heard nothing from Hawke, or Varric. How long until Meredith made her decision? Or had she already? No, he imagined if Taashath was made Tranquil that would be a production in and of itself. She would be paraded through the center of town for all to see. He wouldn’t allow it. If Hawke didn’t act soon, damn the consequences.

_You’d give up everything for a Saarebas? A mage. A Qunari._ That little voice that had been silent for months whispered in the back of his mind.

_For Taashath_ , he thought. Yes, he would.

He spotted Hawke, looking ragged and… singed. Soot smeared across one cheek as she limped toward him. Varric, Fenris and the other mage, Anders trailing behind her. “Serah Hawke,” Cullen said, searching her face for an answer. Her eyes were cold, face otherwise blank.

“Too late,” she told him, her voice low. “She’s dead.”


	12. Chapter 12

Blood roared in Cullen’s ears. _Dead. She was dead? No. That couldn’t be._ His chest ached and he found that he couldn’t breathe.

_Too late._

He should have done something himself. Not left it for another. He’d been responsible for her.

_She trusted you._

_You let her die._

Bile burned his throat and he felt as if he might pass out. _Andraste, what have I done?_

“What is your price?” Cullen managed to ask past the lump in his throat.

Sienna shook her head. “Nothing, I failed,” she said, disbelieving. Cullen had done well to conceal his reaction, to hide his emotions. She truly had believed he had none. But when the words ‘she’s dead’ passed her lips, the grief had been almost palpable.

“You risked your life for…” Cullen swallowed hard. “It was unfair of me to ask you to do such a thing. It was a matter I should have seen to myself. Tell me your price.”

She bit her lip, looked beyond him. “Look after the mages. And I don’t mean the way you Templars normally do. They live or die by your whim.” Cullen opened his mouth to cut her off, to disagree. “Yes, they do,” she insisted.

After a moment, he nodded. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll look after them.”

Sienna started to turn away, but then stopped. “If I hear of another mage turned Tranquil just because you suspect they _might_ be a blood mage… I’m coming for you.”

Cullen watched her go, his heart weighing heavy in his chest. He had failed.

Taashath must have hated him in the end, Maker knew he would spend the rest of his days hating himself for it, too. He thought of her gentle smile, the quiet laugh that only her kitten could bring out. The way she had cared, for him, when he hadn’t deserved it. Not even close. His eyes burned and he clenched his fist.

Hours later, whispers spread like wildfire through the ranks. A mage prisoner had overpowered two Templars. Killed them. The stone walls of the room were burnt black, the wooden door a pile of ash. Nothing had survived, including the prisoner. Cullen tried to ignore the look Oliver gave him. Oliver knew who the prisoner had been.

Late, after most had gone to bed, Cullen lit a candle then knelt before the statue of Andraste. Did the Qunari have prayers for their dead? He imagined they did. “If ever I find it, I’ll say it for you,” he said, bowing his head. “Until then,” he drew in a quiet breath. “The Light shall lead her safely. Through the paths of this world, and into the next.”

 

Three bedrolls were laid out by the fire, two of them pressed right up against the other. The elven couple had been waiting when Taashath, Hawke and her companions had arrived on the outskirts of town. Quick words exchanged before Taashath was handed off to the elves and they mounted their horses. They rode for hours before stopping to camp.

Everything had happened so fast, Taashath’s mind was still spinning. She had wanted to destroy the Templars, was willing to die to do it. She’d heard Hawke and Fenris shouting at her had ignored them as she let the flames build. Until Hawke had grabbed her arms, despite the fire licking over her skin, shaken her roughly. Yelled words she barely understood. _Cullen_.

“ _Cullen is the reason we’re here. He asked us to free you_. _Now stop, before you kill us all._ ”

The words caught her off guard. _Cullen_. Her chest had felt tight. He’d betrayed her… hadn’t he? She drew back the fire, but the room had been destroyed and the guards, she cast their remains a glance. “ _Don’t lie to me_.”

“ _It is not a lie,_ ” Fenris told her. “ _The Knight-Captain offered Sienna anything she wanted if she would see that you were free of this place and safe._ ”

But she had seen the look on his face, the horror at what she’d done to those men. She knew he didn’t trust magic. But maybe this was a favor for a favor. She’d saved him, so he saved her. “ _Alright_ ,” she said quietly, “ _but I have nowhere to go._ ”

“ _We have taken care of that, but you must trust in Sienna._ ” After a moment, Taashath had nodded and they had fled.

Now, she sat with these two elves. Healing tonics had helped, and the potions for the pain, but she was grateful that she had no mirror. Knew her face was a mess. The right side throbbed and she still couldn’t quite open her eye, wasn’t sure she ever would be able to.

“ _I suppose now that we’ve settled down, I should_ _properly_ _introduce myself, I’m Talon, this is my husband, Zevran. Do you speak Common?_ ”

It startled Taashath to hear the woman speaking Qunlat so fluently. She shook her head. “ _I know very little Common, but I do understand some. I am..._ ” She could be anyone now. Could take a different name. She could ask these strangers to pick one for her. “ _I’m Taasha._ ”

Talon grinned. “ _Taasha, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Zev and I traveled with a Qunari a lifetime ago. You’re a bit different, not quite so brusque_.”

“Amor,” Zevran handed a large leather bag to Talon.

“Oh! _I nearly forgot! So, I don’t know everything that happened to you, if you want to talk, I’ll listen. But we went out to the cave you were staying in, hoping to collect some of your belongings. There wasn’t much, but I did find this,_ ” she held the bag in her lap and reached inside. “I hope this is yours, because if not, surprise, love,” she said with a laughing smile at Zevran.

The small ball of fur slept peacefully in her hand as she pulled him out. Talon held one hand over his head and the cat jerked awake, meowed desperately. “ _It was a mild sleep spell, just to keep him safe and quiet._ ” Talon stood and crossed to where Taasha sat, tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks as she took the kitten.

Parrot immediately rubbed his head against her chin. “ _I_ -” Taasha closed her eyes, pressing her lips to the top of the cats head. “ _I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I-_ ” she broke off, a quiet sob escaping.

Talon gave her a gentle smile. “ _No thanks are necessary_.” Talon let Taasha cry quietly with her face pressed against the kitten’s head while she and Zevran built the fire and prepared a meal. She roasted the vegetables and mashed them as best she could. “ _I hope that this is okay_ ,” she said, handing the bowl to Taasha.

She nearly wept again. “ _It’s… thank you. It’s just fine_.”

“ _I was told that_ _it was_ _a Templar is who asked Hawke and her friends to get you out of the Circle. That this Templar also rescued you from Kirkwall after the Qunari attack._ ”

She said it casually enough, but Taashath knew this woman wanted to know more. This woman too was a mage, had she ever spent time in a Circle? Dealt with Templars? “ _Yes_ ,” Taashath said. “ _He did. I have no idea why, but Cullen saved me._ ”

“Cullen?” Talon asked, startled by the name. “No,” she laughed quietly and shook her head. “ _That is impossible. It wouldn’t be the Cullen that I knew._ ” Though she’d never met another man named Cullen. It made her chest feel tight. She thought of the young man, barely even that, who she had adored. Then in such a short time, she’d been terrified of him, for him.

“ _I know_ _he was a Templar in Kinloch Hold,_ ” Taashath said. “ _He still has nightmares..._ ” she trailed off when she looked up and saw that the other woman had paled considerably.

“Mi amor,” Zevran reached out to Talon, his hand curling over her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“It’s fine, I’m fine, my love. I just… you saw Cullen, how full of hate he was-” she broke off, wiped at her damp cheeks. “To hear that he helped a mage, a Qunari at that.” She chuckled, pressed a kiss to Zevran’s hand.

 

They traveled for months together. “My friend, Leliana, she’ll see that you’re safe,” Talon said in the early hours of the morning as they packed up camp once again, for the last time together.

“I cannot thank you enough,” Taashath said slowly, the words still sounding strange and stilted.

Talon smiled, reaching a hand out to gently touch Taashath’s scarred cheek. “I’ve told you, you don’t need to. You… gave me hope.”

Taashath’s brow furrowed at that. “Hope?”

“Cullen. I… _the last time that I saw him, he was no longer the boy that I loved. He was a man, full of_ _so much_ _pain_ _and rage_ _. The man you met, I think you changed him, helped him_.”

She shook her head because she wasn’t sure she believed it. Sienna and Fenris had told her that Cullen was the reason they were there. He was the reason they had known and come to rescue her. “ _I’m not sure I did_ ,” she shrugged. She thought about him laying his head against her thigh, closing his eyes. Letting her fuss when it was something she’d never before been able to do. _But maybe… just maybe…_

“I do hope that I will meet you again,” Talon told her. “If you need anything, Leliana always knows how to get in touch with us.”

“ _And you trust her_?”

Talon smiled. “With my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible procrastinator, I've so much to do! I'm hoping to have one more chapter out by this weekend, then I am hoping I'll still be able to find time to write when I move, but since I'm staying with family for a bit, who knows.


	13. Chapter 13

Cullen never imagined he would be in the position he was in now. “Come,” he whispered, hand gently holding the elbow of a heavily pregnant mage as he led her through the tunnels to Darktown. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last.

“Please, Ser,” the woman’s voice broke. “I already promised him I wouldn’t say a word-” she’d been quietly weeping since he had pulled her through a hidden doorway.

“Quiet,” Cullen hissed as they reached the wooden door. It locked from both sides, a safety precaution. He rapped his knuckles against it three times, held for two beats, knocked four more times. He heard a shuffling on the other side. Cullen held his hand up gesturing the woman to stand back.

Then the knock came. Two knocks, one beat of silence, then three quick short ones. Cullen’s fingers found the latch, he lifted it, heard the lock slide free on the other side. Anders stood there, looking a little disheveled, which was unsurprising given the hour. “No warning?” he asked, feigning annoyance as he held a hand out to the woman.

“Not this time,” Cullen nudged the confused woman forward.

“Knight-Captain?” her voice wavered.

The woman had been in the Circle in Kirkwall for years. Obedient, she’d never so much as stepped a single toe out of line. Though in the last few months, as her belly had begun to swell with child, Cullen began to hear whispers among the Templars. She’d used blood magic, seduced a Templar. Planned to sacrifice the child to a demon. “Go,” he told her gently. “Anders will see that you and your child are safe.”

Tears filled the woman’s eyes. He knew the rumors about him had spread like wildfire. Mages going missing. Simply disappearing after a word with the Knight-Captain. “Thank you, Ser,” she wept, throwing her arms around him. He felt her squeeze him through the heavy armor and despite her size, she was strong.

Then Anders beckoned the woman out of the tunnel. “I may have another for you tomorrow,” Cullen told him and the blonde mage nodded.

“Alright,” Anders said, before pushing the door shut. Cullen heard it latch on the other side, and locked his before making his way back through the dark tunnels to the Chantry.

Cullen clamped his hand over the child’s mouth to silence the scream that he knew would come. Small hands flailed, the boy kicked backward. Cullen felt the magic and as much as he had grown to hate it, he silenced the boy. He went utterly still and Cullen felt hot tears against the palm of his hand as the boy stopped fighting.

“I am not going to hurt you,” Cullen told him quietly, his mouth close to the boy’s ear. “I’m trying to save you.” The kid was barely ten years old and his magic had shown itself when he was very young. With the way things were going in the Circle at present, the boy would never even have the chance to endure the Harrowing.

Weeks passed, then months. Cullen watched as Meredith grew more and more erratic in her decisions. A mage could not be trusted. A mage, at the first sign of magic, should be killed. It made his stomach twist to think that not all that long ago he had believed the same. Mages in the Circle were terrified of him, even some of the Templars. Meredith couldn’t be more proud. He kept track of every mage he smuggled out. A hidden list of names. No matter how many there were, they wouldn’t make up for his failure with Taasha. He apologized to her every night. Told her of the ones he managed to save.

He’d been desperate when Meredith had told him that she had sent for the Right of Annulment. Every mage in that tower would be slaughtered. Hawke had, of course, been his first thought. She wouldn’t stand for that. She would be able to do something.

“Something must be done,” he’d said as he stood in Varric’s room at The Hanged Man. Sienna stood, poised as if ready to attack.

“Why do you care?” she asked in a low grumble.

“I failed Taasha. I cannot forgive myself for that, if I allowed this to continue, it makes me no better than them. I still believe in what the Templars, but I will not abide abuse and torture simply because we stand in a position of power.”

Sienna opened her mouth, closed it. She chewed on her lip and looked at Varric for a long time. “You cared about her.”

Cullen stood straighter. “She trusted me,” he said. Like so many other mages before, ones he’d turned a blind eye to. When the time came, the decision to stand against Meredith and any Templar who agreed with her had been a simple one. In the months that followed the destruction of the Chantry and Meredith’s gruesome end, Cullen continued to do what he could. When the Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast arrived and offered him another choice, he’d jumped at it. Abandoned the life of a Templar in an attempt to do better.

Some had chosen to go with him, like Oliver, the young recruit who Cullen suspected knew the truth of Cullen’s actions in Kirkwall. He contacted others, ones he trusted, some refused, some arrived in Haven shortly after. He stopped taking the Lyrium the day he left Kirkwall and made a deal with Cassandra. She would watch him, if he stepped out of line, if he started to deteriorate, she would say the word and he would step down from the position of Commander.

He hadn’t been in Haven for long. Mostly he kept to himself, trained with the troops and suffered the withdrawals in silence. No one knew what was going to happen with the Conclave, but he wanted to be ready for anything. Cullen stood near the handful of tents where he and his recruits had set up. Mages and Templars alike had been flocking to the area, tensions were high. The sooner it was over, the better.

Movement caught his eye and he turned, spotted a small dark colored cat perch on top of a rock that sat in the sun. It stood, head tilted back slightly, one ear nearly completely missing. The sight of the cat made his heart clench in his chest. He hadn’t thought of her in… weeks? Maker. He closed his eyes, pressed his hand over his sternum, but with the armor he wore it did nothing to help rub away the ache.

Almost six years had passed. Six years since he had helped the Qunari woman, then abandoned her to a brutal and cruel death. He wondered how different his life might have been had he not met her. Had he chosen to kill her, or simply leave her, as that little voice had told him to for months. Would he have been like Meredith? Cullen hated to imagine it, but he knew he’d walked a very fine line for a long time after what happened at Kinloch Hold.

Leliana, he thought. Though the woman claimed to be nothing more than a Hand of the Divine, it was no secret that she had many spies. Including several Qunari contacts. He’d speak with her, find out if she knew what the Qunari did for their dead. “Six years late, but a promise is a promise,” he murmured watching the cat sun itself.

Hours later, with a piece of paper with a prayer written in Qunlat tucked into his pocket, Cullen stepped into the small tavern for the first time since he had arrived in Haven. When he had asked Leliana if she knew what the rights for a dead Qunari were she’d been curious, her eyebrows had lifted. Cullen had fumbled through an explanation filled with half-truths that he knew she saw through. But the corner of her mouth had lifted just a bit and she’d written the words for him.

“Did this person follow the Qun? That might change the meaning of this for them?” Leliana asked, handing over the paper.

“I-” Cullen shook his head. Because she hadn’t, had she? Not in the end. Not once she was free. She’d not wanted to return. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

“Perhaps, you should simply speak from the heart, then?”

Glancing around the tavern, he caught sight of Oliver, sitting with a few others. It was loud, but not a ruckus. Many voices all speaking, chatting, while people ate and drank. He’d heard that the woman who ran the tavern kept everyone well fed. It was a long shot, but he had wanted to see if she made any sweets. Pies, or cookies, or the like.

A quiet offering, a farewell and a tribute to the woman who had very well changed his life. Cullen stepped up to the counter. He heard bottles rattling, a muttered voice. Someone was there but hidden behind the counter. Dwarf? He wondered, peering over the edge. “Excuse me,” he said, politely as possible. Judging from the muttered cursing, whoever it was, was not happy.

“Just a minute,” she said. “Damn, stupid, useless-”

Long slender fingers, the color of the darkest storm clouds, curled over the edge of the counter. A curved, shiny black horn, silver hair. Startled gold eyes met his.

Cullen couldn’t breathe. A ghost. A mistake. This was not her. Another Qunari woman, who maybe had a similar look, but it wasn’t her, he was just so desperate to have not been responsible for her death that he’d imagined her face on another's.

“Hello, Cullen,” she murmured, still mostly hidden behind the counter.

“Commander!” A voice shouted over the low din and a moment later, when he couldn’t tear his eyes from the woman’s, a piece of parchment was shoved in front of his face. “You received word, just now-”

Cullen blinked, ripped the paper from his hand was grateful for the distraction from the ghost. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. Taashath was dead.


	14. Chapter 14

It was late, well past a decent hour, when Cullen stood before the doors of the now quiet tavern. Light still glowed from within, but it was silent. Most people had retired for the evening. He drew in a deep breath. He’d go in, apologize to the woman. He’d look at her again and see that there might be some similarities, but she was not a ghost of the woman he had known. He drew in a deep breath and drew open the door. “I’m sorry,” he said, as he took the first step inside. “I don’t mean to-” he broke off.

She sat in an oversized chair in front of the fire. Sitting sideways with her legs draped over the arm. The cat lay curled up asleep on her chest and there was a book in her lap. “I had hoped you would come back,” she said, gesturing to the other chair.

Cullen shook his head, rubbed his eyes, blinked. It was still her. The scars around her lips had faded some, and she had deep ones on the right side of her face from her time with the Templars. It felt like his throat was closing up. “Hawke said you were dead,” his voice came out a croak, but she heard it, her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small _oh_ of surprise.

Taashath set her book aside and picked up the cat who let out a meow of protest when she stood and set him back in the chair. “Why would she lie?”

“Because she hates me,” he said, and his voice cracked as she moved to stand in front of him. She still had a limp. He swallowed, hard. “You-” he broke off. A lyrium withdrawal-induced hallucination, he thought. “Maker’s breath,” he sighed, tugged off his gloves, tossed them on the bar before he reached for her. He found her left hand, then very gently cupped the right side of her face. “You’re real,” he rasped, his eyes going damp. “I don’t-” he shook his head. “How did you get here? Tell me what happened? I saw the room…”

Taashath covered his hand with hers and pressed her cheek more firmly into his palm. She wasn’t entirely sure how much to tell him about her journey to get to Haven. About Talon. The elven woman had told Taashath that things had not ended well for them. Would it help him? Or make things worse? “You have a scar,” she said, releasing the hand on her cheek to touch a finger to the wide scar on his lip.

“So do you,” he said, thumb rubbing along her cheek.

She gave one shoulder a little shrug as Parrot padded over to them and wound between her legs. “Do you want something to drink? Ale? Or maybe something a bit stronger?” she nudged the cat with her foot before stepping behind the bar. The way he stared at her made her heart beat wildly in her chest. Was he happy to see her or had he been relieved when Hawke claimed she was dead?

Taashath had seen Cullen a few weeks earlier when he’d first arrived in Haven. She’d caught a glimpse of him and nearly sliced her finger off in the process. She had been out in the small garden she kept behind the tavern and his voice had drifted on the wind. At first, she’d laughed off the ghosts of her past. It wasn’t Cullen, couldn’t be Cullen. Then she’d glanced up and the knife had slipped. Six years. But she’d recognize the man who saved her anywhere.

After that, she’d scarcely left the tavern. Taashath was not afraid of him, but she wasn’t sure how he’d react to her being in Haven. She imagined he was glad to be rid of her all those years ago. She poured him a drink, then one for herself just for something to do, to keep her hands busy.

“Thank you,” Cullen said, taking the mug in hand. “How long have you been here?”

She gave a little half-shrug again. “Oh, about eight months, I think? The previous owner died, Leliana thought it would be a better fit for me.” Taasha chuckled quietly. “I’m no spy.” Leliana had tried, she had tried. But Taashath just didn’t have it in her.

“Leliana?” Cullen asked then shook his head. “Please, start from the beginning. Will you tell me what happened in Kirkwall? I-” He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I should have done something sooner. Leaving you there in the cave, then again in that cell.” Cullen set down the mug and began pacing the floor in front of the bar. “Maker, I can’t- I thought you were dead all this time. It wouldn’t have changed anything,” he said absently. “I still would have...” he trailed off, thought of the pregnant woman, who had written to him a few years ago, thanking him. She wrote of the daughter she’d given birth to, that she was afraid with the rebellion starting, trying to lay low.

He still would have saved her, wouldn’t he have? Even if Hawke hadn’t lied about Taasha? Maker, he hoped so.

“You Silenced me,” Taasha said quietly, staring down at the mug clutched between her hands. “I know Templars don’t like magic, most people don’t. But there were so many bandits, I had just wanted to help. I didn’t want you to get hurt because you did a monster a kindness.”

Cullen looked at her, startled. A monster? Is that really what she thought of herself? “You are not-”

Taashath lifted her hand. “No, just be quiet. Let me finish.” Cullen’s mouth snapped shut and he stopped pacing to sit on one of the tall stools in front of the bar, hands clasped, resting on the table top he looked at her and waited. “You didn’t come back. I waited, hoped, but I knew… then the Templars came. There were too many. I knew I didn’t stand a chance against them. I tried,” she swallowed hard, set down her mug and rubbed her hands against her thighs. “I tried to do what I should have done when I woke up alone in Kirkwall. I didn’t have the chance though, they Silenced me.

“I saw you when that bitch brought you and Oliver down to my cell, he is a good kid, you know? He recognized me. But he’s been kind, he goes out and hunts for me, gets the meat so I can feed this lot.”

That explained why the boy was always up so early. “He is,” Cullen agreed. “A good kid.”

“The Templars were dead by the time Sienna and her friends broke into my cell. I had taunted one of them… I had hoped to scare him enough to distract him from holding onto the Silence. It worked. If they hadn’t come when they did-” Taasha broke off. She wasn’t entirely sure what she would have done. How many lives would she have taken before she burned out?

Cullen reached across the table, caught her hand and held it. “I should have done something sooner. I… I’ve never forgiven myself.”

Looking down at their hands, Taashath remembered how kind he’d been to her during her time in that cave. He’d saved her life, more than once. “I had thought you hated me,” she admitted, watching Cullen clench his eyes shut. He dropped his head down, pressed his forehead to the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry,” it was barely a croak. “I shouldn’t have left you there like that. I am so sorry, Taasha.”

Taashath reached out with her other hand, let her fingers slide through his hair. “What else could you have done?” she asked. “Would the other Templars have been forgiving if they found you with me?” the question was rhetorical. They would have tortured him too.

“I know you’re right,” he said, lifting his head to meet her gaze again. “But it doesn’t change the fact that this,” he reached up with one hand, traced a finger over the scars on her cheek, “is my fault.”

“How is it your fault?” she asked with a shake of her head. “Did you send them out there?”

“May as well have,” he sighed. “A former Templar, Samson… he saw me one night, going out to the coast. He didn’t tell anyone that it was me, but he was desperate for a lyrium fix, and he was rewarded for outing apostates.”

She withdrew, wrapping her arms around her middle and taking a small step back from the bar. “I didn’t blame you, well I did, but not really. I understood even then. Saarebas is a dangerous thing. I killed those men, slaughtered them.” She’d understood more after talking with Talon. Talon said she hadn’t known the details, but that Cullen had been tortured by demons. Taasha had witnessed Cullen’s nightmares first hand. It still astounded and confused her that he’d helped her.

“No,” Cullen said, voice hard, his hand cut through the air as he stood up and came around the bar to stand in front of her. “Absolutely not. You defended yourself, and me. If you hadn’t-” he broke off shook his head. “They would have killed me and you- Maker, what they might have done to you?” He reached for her hands again, because he still couldn’t quite believe that she was alive. “I didn’t Silence you because I was afraid of you. I did it because I was afraid you were going to kill yourself and I couldn’t stand the idea of it. Leaving your unconscious in that cave was one of the most difficult things I’ve done. Then Meredith assigned Oliver to me and I couldn’t slip away long enough to go check on you. Then I saw you in that cell- I wanted to draw my sword and kill them all when I saw you there.”

She stood a whole head taller than him and when she stepped closer, Cullen had to tilt his head back to look at her. “They would have killed you and you know it. You saved my life. I got out of there because of you and now I’m here,” she gestured to the tavern. “And you’re here, and I’m going to hug you.”

Her arms slipped around his shoulders and Cullen went with it. His arms slipped around her waist. His face had nowhere to go but against her shoulder as she pressed hers against the top of his head. Taashath held onto him and Cullen closed his eyes, relieved and so grateful. He hadn’t failed her after all.


	15. Chapter 15

They moved to the large chairs beside the fire, Cullen dragged his closer to Taashath’s and held her hand in his, his thumb rubbing over the back of her knuckles. Parrot had curled up in her lap and she absently petted the cat. “I can’t believe,” he said, staring at the cat. “What happened when Hawke got you out of there?”

Taashath ducked her head, scratched under the cat’s chin as she debated whether she should tell him about Talon or not. “Sienna’s friend knew someone. She and her husband went and found Parrot, then we left Kirkwall. I stayed with them for several months. She’d had traveled with a Qunari a long time ago, she knew Qunlat, so communicating with her was a bit easier than it had been with you.” The corner of Taashath’s mouth twisted up a bit at the memory of their fumbled attempts at communication.

“We did well enough, I think,” Cullen said, squeezing her hand. “But I am glad that you were with someone who could speak your language. I tried learning more, but I’m still not very good at it.”

Her chest felt tight. He’d thought she was dead, for years, and still, he’d tried to learn her language? “Then I went with Leliana. I learned more Common. She tried to teach me how to be a spy,” she laughed quietly, shaking her head. “I am not a spy. I traveled here and there for a while with her, then went places she thought might fit. Nothing did. Until I came here,” her voice went a little wistful. Before the people had begun flocking to the area with the upcoming Conclave, Taashath had still found things to do. She cooked and enjoyed it. Baked treats and tended her garden.

“And you’re happy?” he asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Happy?” She had never actually considered that before. She’d found her place. She didn’t have many friends, but surprisingly few at Haven had been cruel or even unkind, despite what she was. “I guess I am. I found where I belong. I found a purpose. Under the Qun, I was a tool. A weapon. Those months in that cave, I was nothing. I had nothing. I was never a perfect Qunari. If I had been, I would have given up my life when my Kith was killed.” Cullen’s grip on her hand tightened and she squeezed back. “You saved my life, so many times, Cullen. I cannot repay you for that. I found my place, because of you.”

He shook his head a little. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said.

“I would.”

After a beat, he ducked his head and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “Then I am glad for my part in helping you.” Cullen reached into his pocket, tugged out the piece of paper he’d been carrying around all day. “When I came in here this morning, I was looking for the owner of the tavern, in hopes that the woman would be able to bake some sweets for me. A pie, or cookies, something.” Taashath’s brows rose up.

“When Hawke told me you were dead, I...” he looked at the paper, then back up at her. “I didn’t know what to do. Andrastian’s have a prayer that we say over the body. A prayer that we hope guides one into the afterlife. I said it for you, with the promise that one day, I would find the Qunari equivalent.” He held out the paper to her and she leaned forward, took it. “I realized Leliana might know, I asked her about it this morning. But she made a good point, you were no longer part of the Qun. I wasn’t sure if that is what you would have wanted.”

Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she stared at the Qunari prayer for the dead. “It’s been nearly six years, Cullen.”

“And I thought about you nearly every day for most of it. It wasn’t until I left Kirkwall that you were no longer a constant presence in my mind.”

“I… I’m honored. But no, you’re right, I no longer follow the Qun. This prayer isn’t for me. But why did you want sweets?”

He ducked his head, rubbed the back of his neck. “I remembered how much you liked those pies I used to bring you. I’m not quite sure what I planned to do with it. Make myself sick eating it and thinking of you?”

A soft laugh bubbled from her throat and Cullen looked up to see her dash away a tear. “Oh, Cullen. I’ll make one, and we can both make ourselves sick eating it all.”

He grinned at her. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have found you. You… changed everything. More than I should admit. I was in a very dark place before I met you. I like to imagine that even without you I would have gotten out of it, but I know it would have taken much longer. I began to see the cruelties that happened in the Circle, how out of control Meredith was.” He knew that there were still whispers about him and the mages who disappeared.

“I began smuggling mages out of the Circle. Hawke’s friend Anders was instrumental in it.”

Her mouth fell open part way. “You did… what?”

“I kept a list of each one. Thirty-nine in two years. Once Meredith was dead, I did what I could more openly, punished Templars who were cruel, forbade the Rite of Tranquility unless there was blatant proof a mage had utterly lost control. I wish I could have done more.”

If Talon could see him now, she thought. And that he thought she had changed everything? “You did more than a lot of people would.” He let out a quiet grunt. Taashath watched him for several moments before releasing his hand and getting up from her chair. Cullen looked up, brows knitting together. She padded across the tavern and ducked through the door into the small back room. She came out a moment later, walked back over to him and held out a pretty silver-backed hairbrush.

“What-” he reached up and took it, then Taashath turned, sunk down on the floor in front of him and waited. “Maker,” he breathed out after a moment. “I can’t say I’ve had any practice braiding hair in the last six years, so I imagine it isn’t any better than it was before.” He began to draw the brush through her hair slowly. Cullen remembered very clearly how short her hair had been in the cell when the Templars were holding her. For some reason, he was very glad she’d grown it back out.

“Better than me, I think. I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to make my fingers work right to braid.” They sat silently for a long time, Cullen brushing through her hair again and again.

“Your name,” Cullen finally said. “I… when we first met. You kept saying Taashath. That wasn’t your name, was it?” he asked.

“No,” she murmured. “But I kept it. Chose it after, because of you. There are no names in the Qun. When I was a child, that is all I was. Child. Imekari. Too young to truly have a title, but I know I was meant to be a Tamassran, but then I was Saarebas.”

“What is a Tamassran?”

“Tama’s are… they are everything in the Qun. They are who keep the Qunari functioning. They raise the children, evaluate them, give them names. They decide who has children and who doesn’t. They are the ones everyone goes to for everything. Words or sex. If you cannot be re-educated… they will change that.”

Cullen’s hands had gone still while she spoke. “And this is what you would have been?”

She nodded. “But instead, I am a _dangerous thing_. Taashath means calm. It was what the Arvaarad would have said. _Be calm. Follow the Qun. Separate from your Kith you must die._ _A Saarebas must be killed or kill themselves._ But I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough-”

“No,” Cullen said the word harshly. He reached around, cupped Taasha’s chin and turned her head to look at him. “You are strong,” he said it slowly, enunciating each word. “Refusing to die is not a weakness.” His thumb slowly traced along the bottom of her lower lip, tracing the scars there. “You are lionhearted.

Hours later, they still sat like that, Taashath’s head resting against Cullen’s thigh while he absently stroked his fingers through the hair he’d braided and unbraided a handful of times while they spoke. “It’s late, you should be sleeping,” Cullen said, tugging lightly on a lock of hair.

“Hmm, the same could be said for you,” she murmured. “Do you still have nightmares?”

After a beat, Cullen sighed. “Yes, some nights are worse than others.”

“I have them as well,” Taashath admitted. “You know where to find me now if you have a bad night.”

“Taasha,” he said quietly, then leaned forward and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “The same goes for you. Deal?”

“Deal,” she murmured, tipping her head back slightly.

Neither one heard the tavern door open. “Oh,” it was a strangled sound. Cullen and Taasha jerked apart in surprise and silence fell. Oliver stood, wide-eyed, with a dead goat in his arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have updated the tags and the warnings for some things that are going to happen later on in the story. Major Character death(s), for example. This story is going to get fairly dark before things get better, so I thought I would give some warning for anyone wanting to jump ship.

Taashath got to her feet and crossed the room. “Oh, thank you, Oliver,” she said taking the goat. “this is perfect.” Then she disappeared into the back room.

Cullen got to his feet and crossed the room. “Soldier,” he said and Oliver’s spine snapped straight.

“C-commander.” He inclined his head.

“So this is what you’ve been doing when you disappear in the early morning hours every day?”

There was a moments pause, then Oliver stood up a little bit straighter and gave a short nod. “Yes, Ser.”

“How is your family? Your sister?” Cullen asked, realizing he hadn’t had the time to talk to the boy since they had arrived in Haven, though he wasn’t much of a boy anymore.

Oliver glanced to where Taashath was ducking back through the door and lowered his gaze to the floor for a moment before meeting Cullen’s eye once again. Oliver had heard the stories about the Knight-Captain and all the mages gone missing. He’d only believed them for a short time. Templars in the Circle rarely hid their mistreatment of mages. His trust in Cullen was the only reason Oliver had followed him from Kirkwall to Haven. “The Templars all left the Circle,” Oliver told him. “My sister went home to our parents. She is safe.”

“Good,” Cullen said, giving him a little nod. “Write to them, tell her to keep her head down. I fear this war between the mages and the Templars far from over.” Not that Cullen didn’t have faith in the Divine, he just knew that tensions had been building for so long, there was no way it would end easily.

“Yes, Ser,” Oliver said and then inclined his head to Taashath before leaving the tavern.

Turning to Taashath after Oliver left, Cullen looked up at her. “You should try and get some rest,” he suggested feeling guilty for having kept her up all night.

She hummed softly. “Things to do, pies to bake,” a small curve of her lips. “Come by for dinner.” Cullen reached out, caught her hand and pressed his lips to the back of her knuckles.

“I will.”

 

“You seem in a rather good mood,” Cassandra said almost startling Cullen.

“What?” he asked and shook his head in denial. Though, it wasn’t a lie. Despite the fact that he had not slept the previous night, he felt better than he had in months, no, years. The weight of the guilt that he had been carrying around for so long, while not completely gone, there was still plenty, but the load was considerably lighter.

“You have been whistling all morning,” she said, giving him a curious look.

Cullen flushed. Maker, he hadn’t even realized. “Yes, well,” he stuttered out the words, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was not complaining, Commander, merely noting that you are in better spirits than you have been since I met you.”

  
That evening Cullen found his way to the tavern and found an empty place at a small table. He caught Taashath’s eye as he sat and the small curve of a smile at the corner of her mouth caused his chest to go tight. A lock of hair fell into her eyes as she ducked her head to work again, filling bowls of stew as a young woman filled mugs with ale and ran them from table to table.

He had found her. She was happy.

Cullen laid out the papers he’d been carrying in front of him, correspondence from some Templars he had known, and hoped would join him and not the madness that seemed imminent. A bowl and mug appeared in front of him and he looked up to see Taasha.

“Eat,” she told him in Qunlat.  
“And when will you eat?” he asked

“When everyone else has been fed,” she told him.

Cullen ate, wrote his replies and then sat back and watched Taashath work. The patrons all seemed quite fond of her. He witnessed one man say something to her, he didn’t hear what was said, but he saw the look on Taasha’s face. Before Cullen could shove away from the table, a man sitting near the one who had spoken slapped him hard upside the head. “You idiot, you don’t talk to her like that! I’ll boot you out myself, you do it again!”

 

When the last customer was ushered out, Cullen got to his feet, asked the young woman who had helped Taasha all night to fill up one more bowl of stew for Taasha before suggesting she leave early. “What are you doing?” Taashath asked, frowning at Cullen.

“Sit down,” he said, nudging her to the table he’d occupied all evening.

“I still have things to do,” she told him, shaking her head. “I’ve got to finish cleaning up, and-”

“Eat,” he said, gently pushing her down into the chair, then he went and found the washrag, wiped down the tables then swept the floors. He was washing the last of the dishes when Taashath made her way over to him, empty bowl in hand.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she told him, letting him take the bowl from her to wash.

Cullen didn’t reply immediately. “You’re well liked here.” She gave a little shrug, leaning her hip against the edge of the counter. “You are. It is apparent. I’m glad, Maker, I am so-” he looked at her.

Taashath reached out and took his hand after he dried it on a towel and tugged him closer. “Me too,” she said quietly, ducking her head down to press her forehead against his. “I never imagined I would see you again.”

Hours later, Taashath woke from the nightmare with a shout. _Templars. Restraints. The taste of blood and ash in her mouth. She would kill them all._ All but throwing herself out of her bed, she rested on her hands and knees on the hard wooden floor as she tried to regain her breath.

“It isn’t real anymore,” she whispered. “The ones responsible are dead. I’m safe.” Once her breathing calmed she pushed up to her feet and knew sleep was going to be out of the question for the rest of the night. Taasha thought of Cullen and wondered if maybe he was having a bad night too. Grabbing her woolen shawl she wrapped it around her shoulders before leaving the tavern.

As she made her way down to where Cullen’s tent was, she became very aware of how many soldiers and scouts were around. Taashath spotted Cullen’s tent and it was dark. _Good_ , she thought, glad he was sleeping. _I could get a head start on the day,_ she thought. _Bake some bread_.

“Are you alright, my lady?” she turned to see a man in full Templar armor. Flinching, she quickly covered her mouth, as if everyone in Haven didn’t already know she was a mage.

“No, I mean, yes. I am fine. I was just-” she broke off and all but ran back to the tavern. Taashath immediately threw herself into her work. Making several loaves of bread and while she waited for the dough to rise, she chopped vegetables for the big pot of stew. She was so caught up she didn’t hear the door open. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her jump in surprise and then curse as she felt the knife slice along her finger.

“Maker,” Cullen said, hurrying to Taashath’s side. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you might still be sleeping.” He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and took hold of her hand. He wrapped it up quickly, despite Taashath’s protests.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to tug her hand away. She wouldn’t meet his gaze and Cullen frowned at her.

“Taasha,” he held onto her hand and then caught her chin with his other, drawing her face down to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Taashath pursed her lips and sighed quietly. “Bad dreams,” she muttered.

While Cullen had trouble falling asleep the night before, the nightmares had not plagued him. “You should have come-”

“Do you have any idea how many scouts and soldiers are up at all hours of the night?” she asked, and of course he did. He was the one who put the soldiers on patrols. “Your soldiers are a bunch of gossips, everyone in Haven would have known a strange Ox-woman was slipping into your tent in the middle of the night.”

Cullen’s brows drew together in a scowl. He hadn’t considered the gossip, and he didn’t like the idea of anyone calling Taasha an Ox. “Has anyone called you that?”

“That wasn’t my point, Cullen,” she said, tugging on her hand again, but he still wouldn’t release it. “You are well respected, a leader-”

“Who called you an Ox?”

Taashath sighed, shoulders slumping. “A few people,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter,” she waved her free hand.

“Yes, it does,” he insisted. “I will not tolerate that here, and I can tell you that Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana would agree with me.”

There was a deep line between his furrowed brow and Taashath felt her lips twitch at the urge to lean in and smooth it out with a kiss. “I need to get the bread in the oven,” she said, giving her hand another tug.

Cullen carefully unwrapped her injured finger, saw it was still bleeding and shook his head. “Do you have any bandages?”

“I’ll-” she nodded, started to take a step.

“I’ll get it, where?”

Taashath finally relented. “The wooden box on the shelf behind my bed.”

“I’ll get it,” he repeated and squeezed her hand before he walked around the bar and into the backroom. _Bed was being generous_ , he thought, scowling at the makeshift pallet. A thin stuffed mattress with a few blankets and a very misshapen pillow. _No wonder she ha_ _s_ _nightmares_ , Cullen thought absently, finding the box, he peeked inside, making sure it was the right one before walking back to the front of the tavern. Taashath had walked around the bar and sat on one of the stools.

Sitting on the stool beside her, he took her hand in his and lowered his head to tend her minor wound. When he finished, he traced a fingertip over the center of her palm, a small scar from the rock when they had tumbled into the creek. “It seems as if it happened in another lifetime,” he said, looking up at her. “But I remember it all so clearly.”

“It was another lifetime, for both of us,” she agreed. “I should get back to work.”

“What can I do to help?” Cullen asked, following her back around the counter.

“You don’t need-”

“Let me help.”

Taashath knew he had more important things to be doing, but she couldn’t deny the happiness it brought her that he wanted to stay there with her. “Finish cutting up the carrots and potatoes?” She headed for the oven to put the bread in.

“As my lady wishes,” he said and she felt her cheeks flame but told herself it was from the heat of the fire.


	17. Chapter 17

Days passed and Cullen found himself spending any free time he had, which was not much, with Taashath. The Conclave had begun and people were still flocking to Haven. It was late and he was making his way to the tavern, with a strange fluttering in his belly. Taashath had sent him a note earlier, all it said was _Pie_. Rylen had seen the note when Cullen opened it and teased him mercilessly.

“ _Whose pie will you be eating?” Rylen asked with a smirk and a quirked brow and Cullen had momentarily been oblivious, answered without thinking. “Ah, the lass from the tavern? Good on you.”_

_Only then did Cullen realize what his friend was implying. He scowled. “That is not-” he broke off at Rylen’s laughter. “Bloody bastard,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be running the troops through their drills?”_

Cullen pushed open the door to the Tavern and smiled when he saw Taashath. She looked up and he saw the excitement dancing in her eyes. “It took all my willpower not to eat it all before you got here,” she said, thrusting a fork into his hand once he crossed over to the bar top. The pie looked pretty with a delicate lattice on top and it smelled delicious. He took the fork from her.

“Are we just eating it out of the pan?” he asked.

“Well, it is just the two of us eating it,” she shrugged.

Cullen eyed the pie, then plunged the fork into the center, scooped some of the filling up and then held it up to Taashath’s lips. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip. “You get the first bite,” he said and watched her slowly part her lips. Something swirled low in his belly as Taashath leaned in, and wrapped her lips around the fork. Her eyes slid shut and Cullen bit back a groan. Damn Rylen. It had been a long time since he was with a woman, but he didn’t see Taashath in that way, despite what his body may be suggesting.

“Not bad,” she said, licking the traces of the dark red berry filling from her lips. She dug her fork into the pie and then held it up to Cullen’s lips. “Your turn,” she said, and had her voice always been so husky? He wondered.

The ground shook.

Taashath’s eyes filled with confusion and then seconds later a loud explosion rent the air. The fork fell onto the counter as they both ran for the door. “What-” she broke off.

“Maker,” Cullen breathed as they stood side by side, staring in horror at the green swirling mass in the sky.

“What is that?” Taashath asked.

“I have no-” he shook his head. “No idea.” The sound of screaming reached them. Distant and panicked. “The Conclave,” he realized.

“Go,” Taashath said, squeezing his arm. “You have to go.”

“Gather supplies,” Cullen told her, pulled from his horrified awe. “There will be injuries.” She gave a quick nod.

“Be careful,” she told him, before running off. Cullen ran in the other direction, found Rylen and the troops he’d ordered out of bed already.

“Whatever happened,” Cullen said. “It’s bad.”

 

Taashath was helping out where she could. So many people had been killed, so many more injured and demons were pouring out of rifts in the sky. It was terrifying. Supplies were running low and she didn’t remember the last time she’d caught more than few minutes of sleep. It was the middle of the day, Taasha wanted little more than to curl up and take a nap, but she couldn’t. “We need more food,” she told Leliana quietly. “I can only stretch it out so far.”

“I know,” Leliana said and it was only because she had known the woman for so long that she caught the look of grief in her eyes. “I’ll see what can be done. Do the best that you can.”

Spotting Cullen heading toward the other injured soldiers, helping a limping Oliver, Taashath darted across the courtyard to them. “What happened? Oliver? Are you alright?” she went to his other side, noted the bloody gash on his leg.

“I’m fine,” he told her but didn’t argue when she slid his other arm around her shoulders.

Taashath caught the look on Cullen’s face, one a mix of pride and concern. “A demon blindsided another soldier, Oliver blocked the attack. Saved the man’s life.”

“It’s just a scratch,” Oliver reassured Taashath, but she knew well enough it was worse than just a scratch.

“Then you’ll be good as new in no time,” she said as they deposited him onto a recently vacated cot. A healer hurried over and shooed Taasha and Cullen away. “You haven’t slept,” she said noting the dark circles under his eyes.

Cullen absently reached up to rub his hand over the back of his neck. “I can’t, the demons just keep coming. So many soldiers have been injured already if we don’t figure out a way to seal the rifts, I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“You need to sleep,” she told him. “You’ll get yourself killed and then how are we going to stop those demons without you?”

He frowned, touched her jaw. “You haven’t slept either,” he noted.

“I’m not fighting demons. Just trying to cook, and help with the wounded, with the dead...” Tears filled her eyes and she blinked quickly. “Go get some rest, Cullen. Please, just a couple of hours, at least.” She walked away, heading for the tavern. The garden was empty. There were some potatoes left and she could probably scrape together a decent broth. But it might be the last. Hopefully, Leliana would be able to get them some supplies.

She hadn’t been in the tavern long, staring at the pot of water she had tossed every last scrap of vegetable and bone into, along with all her hopes and prayers, when she heard the door open. “Cullen,” she said, brow drawing together. “You’re exhausted, you need-”

“So do you,” he said, sliding the lock home once he closed the door behind him. “Come on, just a few hours.” Cullen reached out and took her hand, then led her to the backroom. He had spoken with Rylen, squared away plans, and granted them both a moments reprieve from the battle and the madness. “Why don’t you have a proper bed?” he asked her glancing at the pallet on the floor. “Or at least a cot.”

Taashath shrugged one shoulder and watched as he began to strip out of his armor. Watched the way his fingers deftly found buckles and straps and released them. “I was offered shared quarters when I first arrived, but with the nightmares, it wouldn’t be fair of me to disturb someone else’s sleep. Cots are too short,” she wiggled her toes in her boots. “I don’t like my feet hanging off the edge.”

Cullen pulled off his boots and set them close by, just in case he had to leap awake, he could shove them on quickly. “Surely they could have figured out something else, this can’t be comfortable,” he said, gesturing to the thin mattress. “Night after night.”

“I’ve slept in worse places,” she told him, then finally unlaced her own boots. “Saarebas were never allowed comfortable sleeping arrangements. At least here, I have privacy.” Cullen caught her hand when she straightened again.

“We’ll figure something else out, something better,” he told her before dousing the lone candle that burned in the room, plunging them into darkness.

She couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I think there are more pressing matters right now. Besides, the rate things are going, we’ll all be dead in a few weeks.” She instantly regretted the words as the worry settled on his face again. “Come on,” she murmured, tugging on his hand now, drawing him down to the mattress. It wasn’t much, but the blanket was soft, and Taashath had never wanted for much.

Cullen urged her to lay down between the wall and him. His sword laid out on the floor within reach. Protecting her? She wondered, and couldn’t help but murmur his name softly.

“That song you sang in the cave,” he said, drawing the blanket up around them before slipping one arm beneath Taashath’s head. She curled her hands against the front of his linen shirt and inhaled deeply. He smelled like sweat, dirt and leather and soap.

“It was a lullaby Tama used to sing to me when I had nightmares as a child.”

“Is it magic?” he asked and she smiled, nuzzling her face against his throat where she felt the soft scratch of stubble.

“Just a lullaby.” One of his hands tangled in her hair and she began to hum quietly, it had been so long, but the words came back to her easily. It was only a matter of minutes before she heard Cullen’s soft snore and allowed the black of sleep to pull her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, really, truly, thank you.


	18. Chapter 18

“Who is she?” Taasha asked Cullen late that evening as they sat sharing a cup of hot tea. “The woman you carried down into the cells below the Chantry.”

“I don’t know. Witnesses say she stepped out of a fade rift. A woman was behind her, some are saying it was Andraste,” he said, the tone of his voice disbelieving, “Then she fell unconscious. There is a mark on her hand, very similar to the breach. That elven apostate, Solas, is with her.

“You think she was responsible?” Taasha asked, still unable to believe how such a horrible thing had happened.

“Maybe?” he shook his head. “I don’t know. I have never seen anything like this before.”

Everyone within had been killed in the explosion. It was unfathomable. The days dragged on one bleeding into the other. Supplies arrived, minimal though it was, Taasha felt better knowing at least the people in Haven wouldn’t starve. Oliver was back on his feet, though Cullen wouldn’t allow him back out into the fight just yet, so he had kept himself busy helping her.

Looking up she saw Leliana come out of the Chantry, then a short time later, Cassandra as well as the woman they believed responsible for the whole disaster, stepped out. The woman was short, solid looking and judging from her clenched jaw, very angry. Taashath couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the woman when the mark on her hand flared and she cried out, falling to her knees.

Had the woman been responsible? But to what end? When they were gone, Taasha and Oliver headed back to the tavern. “How is your family?” Taasha asked.

“They had to run,” Oliver told her as they fell into the familiar routine they had created. “A march of Templars was coming through.”

“Are they going to come here? Your family I mean, they would be safe.”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “They only said they had to run and would be in contact.”

Taashath heard the worry in his voice and felt her heart clench. Even though she had no true concept of family, she did understand what it was to care and worry about someone. “I am sure they will be fine,” she tried to reassure him. “You just focus on healing, I know you’re just itching to get back out there.”

The whispers spread quickly. The prisoner was going to attempt to close the Breach.

They were going to charge with the soldiers. With Cullen. Taashath’s chest constricted and she reached up, absently rubbing her sternum while she sent up a silent prayer to anyone that may listen to keep Cullen safe.

Time dragged on and she did everything she could to keep her hands busy. Baked, cooked, cleaned and fussed anyone that came by. Then she felt it. An almost tangible shift in the air. The taste of magic sharp on her tongue. It snapped back hard and Taasha sucked in a sharp breath and looked at Oliver. Had he felt that? He met her gaze and she knew he’d felt something. “Do you think it worked?” she asked him.

“I hope so. I know we can’t keep fighting these demons as we have been.”

More time ticked by. More whispers. Herald of Andraste. She saved us. The next time she saw Cullen, he held the unconscious woman in his arms. She was utterly dwarfed by Cullen and he held her with seemingly great care as he carried her to a cabin this time, instead of the prison cells.

She only managed to catch the occasional glimpse of Cullen now and then as Haven was suddenly a flurry of activity again. The Inquisition. Oliver was deemed okay to fight again and was sent with a handful of other soldiers and scouts to the Hinterlands.

Glancing up from where she stood behind the counter at the tavern when someone stepped up she blinked. If it wasn’t the Herald of Andraste her self. Taashath inclined her head. “May I help you?” she asked, curious about the woman. She still seemed full of rage. “My name is Taashath, I could get you something to eat or drink if you’d like?” The woman’s lip curled slightly and Taasha realized that for some reason, this woman did not like her.

“You’re a Saarebas.” Evelyn Trevelyan’s voice contained thinly veiled disgust and Taasha straightened her spin.

“I used to be,” she said with a nod. “Now I just run this tavern.”

“You’re still a _mage_.”

Said as if it were the vilest thing imaginable. “Well, there is no changing that.”

“Where were you before you came here?”

Taasha would have been more than happy to answer the woman’s questions were they not demanded in such an aggressive tone. “Here and there,” she said flippantly, wondering what had happened to this woman that caused her to hate her base on the mere fact that she was a mage and a Qunari.

“Kirkwall?”

Ah. There it was. Taashath didn’t say anything and watched Evelyn’s lip curl, transforming the pretty rounded features into something harsh and ugly.

“Herald!” a voice called, stepping into the tavern, pulling Evelyn away. They left and Taasha rubbed her fingertip over the scars around her mouth. Everyone in Haven, in the Inquisition, was looking to that woman for guidance. Even Cullen, Leliana, Cassandra and Josephine. All because of that mark on her hand.

What would happen if Evelyn decided she didn’t want the filthy mage running the tavern any longer?

It had been chaos for days. The breach was declared closed by the elven apostate, though he said they would need more power to fully seal it. But now, finally, with things in place and moving forward he felt like he could breathe. He spotted Rylen hair dripping from the baths, looking more relaxed than he had seen him in weeks, as he headed for the tavern.

The tavern was more crowded than usual and Cullen almost turned around and left, but then he spotted Taashath, looking a bit harried as she hustled from one table to the next. The influx of people to Haven had definitely given her more work. Taashath needed more help than just Flissa. She barely even cast him a second glance when she dropped off food and a mug of ale.

Surely there must be someone else willing to work at the tavern so Taasha didn’t have to run herself ragged, he thought as he watched her. When the last patron left, and Taashath shooed Flissa out, she sunk down into a chair across from Cullen and heaved out an exhausted breath. “Since you’re here, I’m assuming everything is fine with the breach and the demons falling from the sky?”

“The area is safe again,” he told her. “Is there anyone else who can help you here? You looked so busy tonight, surely there is someone willing to help around here.”

Taashath waved a hand, dismissing his concern. “It’s fine, Flissa and I have it under control, though if you hadn’t have gone and taken Oliver back, it all would be considerably easier,” she teased, then she sobered. “I hear the fighting is bad in the Hinterlands.”

“It is, Lady Trevelyan will depart first thing tomorrow morning, and hopefully put a stop to the madness there.”

Taasha made a quiet sound and he watched as she stared at a knot in the wooden table and began rubbing her finger over it again and again. “What do you think of her? The Herald.”

“She seems determined to help. I still can’t say whether or not it is all a farce and she orchestrated the entire thing. But she seems genuine.”

Taasha made another quiet sound, still looking at the table, not at him. “Have you met her yet?” he asked, knowing he had seen her going around the last few days and speaking to the residents of Haven.

The twist of Taasha’s lips was not a pleasant one. “She doesn’t like mages.”

Cullen’s brow drew together. “What makes you say that? What happened?” he asked. She waved her hand dismissively, and Cullen reached out, catching it with his. “Tell me.”

“It isn’t important, Cullen. Really.” His gaze was unrelenting and she sighed. “It really is childish. She came in, asked me questions, about where I was before I was here if I was in Kirkwall. It’s fine, Cullen. The Qunari have not exactly endeared themselves to the general population of Thedas.”

He shook his head. “She is in a position of authority here, people are looking to her for their cues. I will not have her feeding an unwarranted hate.”

Taasha’s features softened and she finally looked up at him, a soft smile on her face. “Cullen, please, it wasn’t as if she was threatening to come after me with pitchforks and torches. Just leave it be, please.” He clenched his jaw, unwilling to agree and she squeezed his hand. “Please,” she said again and he gave his head a little jerk. Neither agreeing nor disagreeing.


	19. Chapter 19

“Lady Trevelyan,” Cullen said, spotting the Herald in the early morning hours, as she prepared to leave for the Hinterlands. She tipped her face up to him and smiled.

“Yes, Commander?”

He pursed his lips, thought for a moment. Taashath was not going to appreciate what he was about to do, but if she ever found out, he’d accept her annoyance. “I just wondered how you were settling into Haven. It is quite different than what you are used to.”

“Ah,” she said with a bit of a shrug. “It is different, but I have had worse accommodations.”

“Have you met Taashath?” he asked as they turned and began walking toward the small stables. He caught the blank look on her face. “The woman who runs the tavern.” There was no missing the look of distaste that crossed her features.

“The Saarebas,” she said with a curl of her lip.

Cullen nodded. “Her name is Taashath.”

“I don’t trust her,” Evelyn shook her head sharply. “She was evasive when I asked about her past.”

Cullen clenched his jaw but did his best to remain outwardly calm. “It doesn’t matter where she was before.”

Evelyn whirled around to face him, small and furious. “You of all people, I would have expected-”

Raising a hand he cut her off. “Let me make this very clear to you, Lady Trevelyan,” Cullen spoke softly. “Taashath has the loyalty of the people of Haven. Myself included. I would trust her will my life. Her past is of no concern to you.”

Evelyn had taken a small step back and Cullen saw what he thought was genuine fear in her eyes for a moment. He knew he should feel guilty, but he didn’t. Then she inclined her head slightly. “Duly noted, Commander,” her voice no longer held any warmth, and Cullen was perfectly alright with that. “I will apologize to her before I depart for the Hinterlands.”

He shook his head. “No, she asked me not to say anything to you.”

“And yet you did.” Her brows lifted, curious.

“I meant it when I said I trust her with my life. She is very dear to me, and I won’t stand for blind hatred towards her, or anyone else.” He had for far too long while at the Circle in Kirkwall.

“Of course, Commander.” Evelyn inclined her head once again. “Again, I apologize and I will attempt to do better in the future.”

It was late by the time Cullen made his way to the tavern. Far later than usual and the tavern was dark. Frowning, he quietly pushed open the door, in case she had already gone to bed, though he hoped that she hadn’t. The conversation they had the night before had been nagging him all morning. Taashath had asked about his family.

“ _I know you have sisters, Mia and Rosalie, but tell me more.”_

_He would tell her, of course, but he was genuinely curious. “Why?”_

_Taasha had opened her mouth, then snapped it shut and ducked her head. “I don’t have one. Oliver was telling me about his sister, his parents, I was just curious, the dynamic of your family, that’s all,” she said the words with a shrug as if it weren’t important. As if she hadn’t just gutted him. “You don’t have to.”_

He told her everything he could think of. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known Taasha didn’t have a family, didn’t know her parents, didn’t know if she had any siblings, it was hearing it come from her lips. There was a longing in the words she’d spoken. Cullen was a terrible brother. He rarely communicated with his siblings, and Mia always berated him for it. So he’d spent hours trying to write to her. Four hours and all he’d managed were a measly three sentences.

Now, as Cullen stood in the dark tavern, the fire banked for the night, he wished he were better at words and had been able to write the letter faster. He enjoyed the evenings he spent with Taasha and missing them made him feel almost restless. _Too late,_ he thought with a sigh. She’d gone to bed. Turning back to the door, he froze when he heard a quiet sound come from the back room.

Was she crying? Maker. Maybe she’d had a nightmare, or maybe she was still upset about what had happened with Evelyn. He wanted her to feel comfortable coming to him in the night if she’d had a nightmare, but he knew that the soldiers and scouts were the worst gossips. _As if there isn’t gossip about you spending late nights at the tavern already?_ He stepped through the doorway and it took several heartbeats for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing.

_Not crying_ , he thought stupidly. A candle burned low beside her bed, a book had fallen at her elbow. Her eyes were closed and teeth sunk into her full lower lip as she held back any sounds that might escape. He blinked. Knew he needed to leave. _Now_. But his feet were rooted to the floor. _Andraste preserve me_.

Taasha’s feet were planted on the makeshift mattress, knees bent, her smalls tangled around one ankle, while one hand worked between her thighs. Slender fingers slid through curls, darker than the pale silver on her head. The shirt she liked to sleep in was rucked up above full breasts, her other hand cupped one, a dark nipple caught between her knuckles. A soft sound escaped her, a whimper.

_Leave_ , he mentally shouted at himself.

One long finger slipped between her lower lips, dipped into her core and came out wet. She dragged the finger up to her clit, rubbed quick little circles and the scent of her made his mouth water. The powerful urge to fall to his knees and crawl between her thighs washed over him.

“Please,” it was a breathy whisper and Cullen could feel the blood rushing in his veins, feel his cock hardening. He had to leave. This was wrong. “Please, please.” Each soft plea was more desperate than the last. It took an immense effort to get his feet to move. Cullen stepped out of the backroom and silently made his way through the tavern, feeling almost dazed. He could still hear her, hear the soft whimpers.

Cullen wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, breathed. “Oh!” The cry was soft, distant and it sent fire roaring through him. His mind filled with the image of her thighs pressing together as she rode out the pleasure and he silently cursed and left the tavern. He stormed back to his tent, trying to banish the image, but it was imprinted there.

_Silver hair fanned out over the too think pillow. Brow knit in concentration._

He tugged at the straps of his armor, hung each piece on the rack.

_Her neck bare and slender as she tilted her head back. Taasha’s chest heaving with each breath._

Cullen stripped down to his smalls, paced the tent before he heaved a breath and all but threw himself onto his cot, face down, pressing his erection into the unforgiving canvas. _Stop picturing her,_ he told himself. _It isn’t right_.

_Full breasts that were more than a handful._

He licked his lips, imagined taking one of those pebbled nipples into his mouth. Suckling, teasing it with his tongue. Gently sinking his teeth into it. “No,” he ordered himself, even as he a hand between his thighs. “Don’t you dare picture her,” he rasped.

_Why not?_ That damned voice that had yelled at him for months and months over Taasha originally, spoke again.

“I don’t see her like that,” he reminded himself.

_Oh, but I did._

He wrapped his fist around his cock and squeezed, hard. A quick tug, just to be able to fall asleep.

The long line of her stomach, smooth and soft. He imagined pressing kisses to it as he made his way down her body to settle between her thighs.

Cullen did his best to banish Taashath’s face, tried instead to imagine Iseril or even Talon. But the image of her felt wrong. He had even less right to think of Talon that way than he did Taasha. He stroked himself, hips rocking. He did his best to keep his mind blank, but the soft sounds she’d made, the whispered pleas. What would it be like to have those breathy sounds against his ear as he drove into her?

What would his name sound like, crying out as he wrenched an orgasm from her? Her thighs clamping around his hips while her warm, wet inner walls clenched around his cock. With a grunt, he came. But it held no real pleasure. Shouldn’t have thought about her like that, he reminded himself yet again as he angrily stripped out of his now wet smalls and tossed them on the floor.

Cullen enjoyed the way she would curl up against him, her head tucked under his chin. She trusted him. If she knew what he’d just done, she’d never trust him again. Rolling onto his back, he stared blindly up at the top of his tent and knew sleep would not come easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been going back and forth over how much to include from Evelyn's perspective. I'm still undecided.


	20. Chapter 20

Evelyn sat apart from the others at their camp in the Hinterlands. The meeting with Mother Giselle had gone far better than she had anticipated, considering how most things had gone for her so far. Solas and she were quite obviously never going to be friendly. Varric had been kind, but aloof. Cassandra, well, Evelyn was sure the woman was a breath away from shackling her and throwing her back in a dungeon. Mark of Andraste, be damned.

Then there was, of course, the Commander. Cullen had been in Kirkwall and she knew he’d seen first hand what happened there when the Qunari had attacked. How could he defend one of them? Staring down at the mark on her hand she couldn’t help but wonder what the story was. Cullen had been genial and she couldn’t deny that the attraction had been instant for her. Andraste preserve her, she had more important things to worry about than the man with blonde curls and kissable lips.

But his entire demeanor had changed when he’d spoken of that woman. She had been truly terrified for several moments. Fiercely protective was an understatement.

“Is it troubling you?” Cassandra appeared at her side and sat down on the boulder near her.

“No more than usual,” Evelyn said as if it didn’t feel like pins and needles were being jabbed deeper and deeper into her hand and up her arm.

They sat there for a time, watching the sun sink lower on the horizon. “You’ve been quiet since we left Haven,” Cassandra commented and Evelyn pursed her lips.

Maybe Cassandra would have some insight and also, maybe she could get another perspective on the matter. “How well do you know the Commander?”

“I met him in Kirkwall nearly a year ago now. Are you having doubts about his leadership of the soldiers, because I can assure you-”

“No,” Evelyn cut her off quickly. “No, nothing like that. I was just...” Reaching up she fingered the locket she wore around her neck. “That...woman. The-Maker,” she couldn’t think of her name. “The one who works at the tavern.”

“Flissa?”

“No, the other one.”

“Ah, Taashath, she runs that tavern, and has since long before we arrived at Haven.”

“Taashath,” she repeated, the name sounding clumsy in her mouth. “Taashath,” she said again. “Do you know where she was before Haven?”

“From my understanding, she traveled all over Thedas.”

“She’s-” Evelyn broke off again, her heart was racing. “Is there… is there something between her and the Commander?” she said the words in a rush, then felt Cassandra’s gaze on her. “I just mean that- I spoke with her and the Commander reprimanded me and-”

The soft laugh that came from Cassandra surprised Evelyn and she looked at her, startled. “There is a betting pool among the soldiers and the scouts. Well, among those who don’t already believe the two are together.” Evelyn’s brow drew together. “They have known each other for some time, and it is quite apparent to all the two are rather fond of each other.”

“I see,” Evelyn said quietly, looking back down at her hands.

“Why would the Commander reprimand you for speaking with Taasha?”

Evelyn chewed on her lip. It was apparent Cassandra liked the Qunari. “She’s a Saarebas,” Evelyn said quietly as if it would soften the words. “The Commander was in Kirkwall, they slaughtered… so many people.” The words lodged in her throat and she reached for the locket again.

Cassandra didn’t speak for several long moments and Evelyn knew she should have kept her mouth shut. “That should tell you everything then, shouldn’t it?” There was a sharpness to the reply and then she stood up and walked away.

“I suppose,” Evelyn murmured, flipping open the locket. She traced a finger over the miniature paintings inside and her heart clenched.

 

Taasha made her way out of the bathhouse, hair damp against the back of her neck. The last few days had been quieter with many of the troops out in the Hinterlands, and the ones that weren’t, Cullen was running ragged. He hadn’t come by the tavern and she couldn’t help but think the worst. Had he spoken to Lady Trevelyan? It was obvious that she didn’t like mages, didn’t like Qunari. Did she have some ties to Kirkwall?

“Oh, Taashath.” She froze hearing Cullen’s voice. Looking up, she spotted him just a few feet away, heading toward the bathhouse.

“Cullen,” she said softly, inclining her head and her chest ached. He was staring beyond her, actively not meeting her gaze. What had the Herald said? Or what had Taashath done? Her mind was a whirlwind of possibilities. Evelyn had reminded Cullen of Kirkwall, of all the atrocities committed by Qunari and Mage alike. She’d reminded him of the kind of monster Taashath really was. When the Herald returned, they’d have her forcibly removed from Haven if that is what it took.

Taashath found it hard to breathe and tears burned her eyes. She liked Haven, loved the little piece of life she’d carved out for herself. “I’ll speak with Leliana,” she said quietly when Cullen hadn’t spoken or continued on his way. His gaze flickered to hers, then quickly away once again.

“Why?”

It hurt, more than she wanted to admit. But Cullen was… everything. He had saved her time and time again. Protected her when there was no one else. That he’d been so easily swayed by a human with a pretty face hurt. _She’s the one who will save the world, probably wipe out the mages while she’s at it._ “Why can’t you look at me?” her voice wavered

Cullen ducked his head, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Taashath,” he said quietly, still not looking at her.

_That’s that then_ , she thought. “Flissa can take over the tavern. I’ll be gone before the Herald returns from the Hinterlands.” Taasha barely managed to take a step before she felt Cullen’s hand curl around her bicep.

“What? You’ll do no such thing.” His brow was knit together as he frowned up at her.

“It’s fine, Commander,” she kept her voice low, biting back the tears that burned her eyes. It wasn’t fine. She’d been in Haven first, it was her home, the home she’d finally been able to make for herself. And now she’d have to leave it because the Chosen One of Andraste didn’t like Saarebas.

“No, it is not,” he ground out. Cullen breathed, glanced around and cursed softly. “Come on,” he said, tugging her along with him, muttering quiet curses the whole way. She let him pull her along until he found a quiet alcove and dragged her into it with him.

“I’m an idiot. Maker’s breath. I’m sorry, Taasha, I’m-” he broke off, dragged a hand down his face and breathed. “I am sorry. I have been avoiding you, but it has nothing to do with Lady Trevelyan.”

“Then what? What did I do?”

“Maker,” it came out a rasp and he reached out, taking her hand in his. “You didn’t do anything. I stopped by the tavern the other night, it was late. I thought you were asleep. I’d meant to just leave, but I heard a sound, I went to check on you and you were-” he broke off and she watched the blush creep up his throat, flood his face and even his ears turned pink. “Pleasuring yourself.”

Her ears started ringing and she felt her own face flush and her heart was suddenly beating wildly in her chest. “Oh,” it came out a quiet squeak. He’d seen her- she broke off the thought and covered her face with her hands. She remembered very clearly what had prompted it. It had been late, she’d given up on Cullen stopping by and had gone to bed. But Taashath’s mind was racing with worries about the Herald and other things. She grabbed one of the books she’d gotten from Cassandra, flipped to the dog-eared page with the tender love scene.

And Cullen had seen- She really should speak with Leliana and see about leaving now. It was no wonder the man had avoided her for days. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Cullen said with a frown. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and dragged her hands down from her face. “I’m the one that needs to apologize. I handled it poorly.” One hand reached up and he cupped her cheek, thumb tracing along the scar on her cheek. “Why didn’t you lock the door?”

“I thought I had… I mean, I’d left it unlocked for you, but I must have forgotten before I went to bed.”

“Maker’s breath, Taasha, if it had been anyone else. I don’t even want to think about what might have happened.” His hand slid to the back of her neck and he tugged her head down to press their foreheads together. “You most certainly are not leaving Haven.”

 

 

Cullen felt like an absolute asshole at the realization that he’d hurt Taasha. Her eyes fluttered shut and he heard her sigh quietly. Unable to get the image of her from his mind he had thrown himself into training, and the troops in Haven as well, all in a bid to crawl into bed at night too exhausted to feel the swell of desire.

He’d failed. She’d been there, in his dreams, whispering his name, murmuring words of promised pleasure and he’d been unable to face her because of it. Maker, if he hadn’t have run into her, would she have just left without a word? “I don’t care what Lady Trevelyan’s views on mages, or Qunari or Saarebas are. You belong here, more so than even she does.”

Taasha laughed softly and it was a wonderful sound. “Cullen,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “She’s the one who is supposed to save us all. I think she ranks a bit higher than me.”

“Not in my book,” he said and it was the absolute truth, though he knew she didn’t believe him, thought it was in jest.

“You were heading for the baths, you should go get cleaned up, I’m sure you have a lot to do today.” She started to withdraw, but Cullen was reluctant to release her. “You’ll come by the tavern tonight, right?” He wanted to kiss her, wanted to feel the softness of her lips against his. Would her lips taste sweet?

Maker, he needed to stop that. “Yes,” he said his voice a quiet rasp.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to[Ladydragon1316](https://ladydragon1316.tumblr.com/), whom some of these words actually belong to. You helped get me through the trouble I was having with this chapter and I am immensely grateful and so sorry I failed to do the same for you.

Taashath laughed softly at something Flissa said as they worked to get ready for the dinner rush. The last few weeks had been relatively quiet with Evelyn gone and Taashath was grateful that the woman had only appeared for a short time after visiting Val Royeaux before she promptly left again. She and Cullen had fallen back into their usual evening routine, with him coming for supper and staying well after everyone else had left.

Many of the soldiers were gone with Evelyn and the scouts out on their own errands, so most nights were pretty slow in the tavern. Taashath knew the calm wouldn’t last, but she would enjoy it while it did. The door scraped open and she looked up, saw Cullen blinking as he stepped through the door.

“I brought you something,”

Taasha grinned, she loved surprises. Especially in the form of gifts from Cullen. “What is it?” She all but skipped around the counter to meet him. “Cullen? Are you alright?” He was pale and looked a little bleary-eyed.

“Hm, fine,” he said, clenching his eyes shut. “Just a headache.”

With a frown, she reached out, pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine,” he said again. “Here, this is...” Cullen rubbed his hand over his forehead, and Taasha barely caught the little wooden box before it tumbled to the ground.

“Cullen,” she grumbled. “You haven’t been sleeping again, have you?” she asked, keeping her voice low. Flissa was there and even though it was hard to miss the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces looking a step away from death’s door, the woman didn’t need to know everything.

“No, I mean, yes, I have. That isn’t-”

He staggered and Taashath quickly stepped into him, one arm going around his waist to keep him upright. “Hey, come sit,” she spoke softly. She started to guide him to one of the stools but changed her mind when his knees nearly gave out.

“You’re burning up, Cullen, you’re not fine. Flissa, run and get Rylen,” she said before leading him into the back. “Come on, let’s just get you-” she helped him down onto her pallet.

“It’s the lyrium,” he said, not resisting when she urged him to sit. “I stopped taking it.”

Taashath knew that the lyrium was what was behind the Templars abilities and that the mages used it as well. In the Qun, it wasn’t used, since they didn’t want Saarebas any more powerful than they already were. “I don’t understand, what does that mean?” she asked him as she began quickly loosening the buckles and straps of his armor.

Cullen didn’t argue and when his own fingers slipped on one of the small buckles when he tried to help, she just batted his hand away. “When Cassandra asked me to join the Inquisition…” He trailed off and she glanced up at him, saw him staring at her. “I never forgave myself for letting you die.” His fingers slid through her hair and Taasha found it hard to breathe.

“Cullen, you didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. I left it up to Hawke when I should have just stormed down there and gotten you out myself.”

Taasha reached up and covered his hand with her own, then tugged it to her lips and pressed a kiss to his palm. “We’ve been over this, Cullen, they would have killed you, or worse. Besides, you saved all those other mages from worse fates.” His thumb traced the edge of her lip and she found herself utterly distracted for several moments before shaking herself out of it. “Tell me about quitting the lyrium.”

He did his best to explain it through the blinding pain stabbing into his skull and the writhing is internal organs had all seemed to take on. All the while, Taashath listened, stripping the last of his armor, his boots. She nudged him onto his back on the pallet and then filled a small basin with water and grabbed a rag. She sat down, her back against the wall and tugged his head into her lap.

“Really, I’m fine,” he protested again, though they both knew it was half-hearted.

“I’ve got you,” she murmured. “You took care of me, now it’s my turn, alright?”

Cullen made a soft humming noise as his eyes slid shut. Taashath rung the rag out and laid it over Cullen’s forehead while her free hand slid through his hair. She hummed the lullaby Tama used to sing, saw Cullen’s lips twist into a faint smile, remembering the tune before he grimaced.

 

Cullen was only half aware as he drifted in and out of the Fade. He heard voices, that sounded so far away, Rylen’s and Taashath’s. But her fingers were in his hair, on the back of his neck lifting his head as she pressed a mug of cool water to his lips. The memories pulled at him and he was in Kinloch Hold. _Talon_.

_Maker, Talon. She tipped her face up to his, smiling, a sparkle in her dark green eyes. He adored her. A healer at heart, her magic developed in kind. On her tip-toes, she still couldn’t reach his lips as she tried to steal a kiss in a secluded alcove._

_Frowned upon, but not outright forbidden. Cullen ducked his head, kissed her, felt her smile against his lips._

Nausea rolled through him and Cullen had just enough presence of mind to be mortified that Taasha was seeing him this way. This was not what he wanted. His burden. No one should see him like this. But her hands were cool on his fevered skin and she rubbed his back while he retched in the bucket. “You’re okay,” her voice was music to his ears. “I’ve got you, Cullen. It’s okay.”

He was vaguely aware of her pressing a vial of tonic to his lips. He didn’t like taking them. He should be strong enough not to need them. “Please, Cullen, I promise it will help.” Cullen relented, because how could he deny her?

The demons were there again, taunting him.

Towering walls on all sides, one moment, a place of repose; the next, they closed in around him. Fire and heat with enraged eyes and bloodied claws. Distant screams of those he was meant to protect. Failed to protect. Now crying out, dying. Brothers gone. Bodies and armor contorted unnaturally about his feet. He was alone; weapons beyond his reach.

_Please_

Lips peeled back from sharpened teeth, revealing a sinister smile.

_No more._

Everything screamed at him to run, but he couldn’t move.

_I beg you!_

“No!” he shouted, striking out, or trying to, his limbs felt heavy, weighted down. Was he restrained? Had they chained him? Tied him up? “Leave me be!”

“Cullen, Cullen, it’s alright,” a familiar voice said, soothing, while hands curled around his. He blinked, couldn’t focus. It was dark as pitch and his head ached. Eyes flashing in the dark. _Talon_ , he thought. He remembered the way her eyes would flash yellow in the dark.

_A trick. It must be_ , he thought. “No,” he said, though the denial felt hollow. Had the demons broken his mind finally? “No,” he mumbled it again as soft fingers stroked through his hair. He’d been weak. Talon was gone, taken away by that Grey Warden before Kinloch Hold began to fall. A soft voice shushed him gently, telling him again and again that it was alright, that he was safe.

Blindly he reached for her. Demon. It had to be. He failed. Maker, forgive him, he had failed everyone. “You didn’t fail, Cullen,” her voice was soft against his ear as her warm body stretched out beside him, against him. “You’re so strong. So brave.”

Would a demon sound so adamant? “I’m not,” he said, hand sliding up her arm, smooth skin, and soft well-worn fabric. His fingers found her throat and she made a soft sound, her neck arching. Cullen remembered letting his teeth scrape over the delicate skin there and the way she’d sigh with pleasure when he did it.

“You are. You’re my hero,” she mumbled, her voice sounding a little breathless. “You’re also ill, this isn’t, you shouldn’t-” she broke off with a quiet squeak when his lips brushed along the column of her throat. “Cullen,” it was a rasp of sound and she started to retreat.

Not a demon. A demon wouldn’t pull back. His hand slid to the back of her head, tangling in hair longer than he remembered and he tugged her mouth down to his. It had been such a long time. Maker, he had missed her. She gasped against his lips and Cullen groaned at the feel of one of her hands sliding along his neck and resting at his jaw. Her response was almost tentative.

More. He needed more of her. All of her. But his head was swimming, throbbing with unrelenting pain. But he wasn’t done with her. “Talon,” his voice came out a croak and he felt her still beside him, lips no longer reciprocating the passion that left him wanting.

“Oh,” she murmured and gently began to pull away. “Cullen...” were those tears in her voice?

“No, Talon, Tally, don’t leave-” He reached for her, feeling desperate. “I didn’t mean it, Tally, I’m sorry. The things I said-” he broke off, his throat closing up. He’d been cruel. So cruel to her in the end. She’d saved him and he’d-

“Shh,” she hummed quietly, gentle hands pushing him back onto the hard bed. “I know,” she told him. “I know you didn’t. You were just angry. Sleep now.”

 

Taashath tried to ignore the lump in her throat and the ache in her chest as she soothed Cullen back to sleep. He’d kissed her. She traced her fingers over her lips. He hadn’t known it was her, but he’d kissed her. She’d always wondered what it would be like, to feel someone’s lips against hers. Taasha had read about it plenty. Cassandra had shared her love of books and introduced her to the smutty novels that always made Taashath’s heart beat a little faster.

But she’d never expected to know what it was really like. Never believed anyone would kiss her. _He didn’t know it was you, you dummy_. The ache in her chest grew exponentially. He hadn’t known and what kind of a person did that make her? A terrible one. Tears stung her eyes and she rubbed a hand over her face. It had been nearly three days now of Cullen floating in and out of consciousness. They were all concerned and she truly hoped they were past the worst of it.

Rylen had come by several times, no longer offering to take him off her hands, but offering to bring anything she might need. Cassandra and Leliana had stopped in as well, their worry evident in the lines around their eyes. She was so tired, having barely slept through the bouts of sickness and nightmares. Taasha would just rest her eyes for a moment. Surely, now that the fever had broken, Cullen would sleep more soundly?

Taashath bit her lip. The pallet was large enough for both of them. Curling up beneath the blanket sounded wonderful, but if Cullen woke again, still convinced she was Talon? Guilt washed over her and she silently curled up on her side a few feet away from where Cullen slept, his breathing deep and even and pillowed her head on her arm.


	22. Chapter 22

The first thing Cullen noticed when he woke up was that his mouth tasted as if he had been chewing on a sock he’d worn for a month straight. Second, that every single part of his body ached. His head, his muscles, even down to the tips of his fingers. Blinking slowly, he waited for light to blind him, but wherever he was, it was utterly devoid of light. A blessing.

Moving as slow as he could manage, he pushed up into a sit, waited. His stomach flipped, rolled and he waited, swallowed. Cinnamon, smoke, and dirt. Something sweet and verbena. _Taasha_. He remembered wanting to drop off the present he’d just received. Cullen had known he was going to have a bad episode but hadn’t expected it to be quite so severe.

Taashath had taken care of him. Each time he’d woken, she’d been there. A Maker given gift. But where was she now? His eyes had begun to adjust to the dark. Cullen contemplated getting up, wondered if his muscles would allow it, but when he saw the dark shape curled up on the floor a few feet away he frowned. He’d taken her bed. Scowling, he slowly got to his knees. They had shared her bed before, more than a handful of times.

_Not since you watched her pleasure herself._

He froze at the thought, then banished it. They had both ignored it after he’d admitted it. Was that why though? Was she uncomfortable with him now? Maker, he hoped not. The idea made him feel even more guilty about taking himself in hand more than a time or two since with her spread out in his mind. “Taasha,” her name came out a rasp as he reached out and gently shook her shoulder.

“What?!” she sat up quickly, nearly butting him in the chin with her head.

“Come to bed, Taasha,” he murmured quietly, finding her hand in the dark.

“What?” she said it again, tipped her head back and looked up at him. The gold of her eyes glinting through half-lidded eyes, before they slipped shut again.

“Bed,” he repeated, tugging on her hand. She didn’t resist, allowed him to coerce her onto the pallet. She lay down and Cullen stretched out beside her, wrapping himself and the blanket around her. Almost immediately her breathing slowed and she slipped back off to sleep. He lay there, let his eyes slip shit and listened to her soft snores.

It had been a long time since Cullen had been so ill due to the withdrawal. Not since the first few weeks of stopping the lyrium. But he’d pushed himself harder the last few days. Talon. The dreams of her had been so vivid. Absently, he let his fingers dance up and down Taasha’s back as he tried to separate nightmare from reality. Taasha had been there, taking care of him. He’d never be able to repay her. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, heard her sigh and she snuggled in closer to him.

Talon Surana was his first love. Despite the years in the Circle, she’d had spirit. Meredith would have enjoyed breaking her had she been in Kirkwall. He was grateful that she’d gotten out, though he hadn’t been at the time. Talon had saved the world, literally. Cullen was upset when she’d gotten into trouble in the Circle. Worried for her and angry she’d done something stupid. The Grey Warden’s timing had been impeccable. Then she was gone.

After that, the Circle fell and Cullen grew to hate the very idea of her. The demons had used her, used his memories of her, to try and break him. He shuddered to think how close they had come. When Talon had actually returned, looking fierce and stronger than he ever remembered, he had hated her. He’d been cruel. The insults he’d hurled at her all because he was weak.

Maybe he would write to her. Despite Leliana’s insistence that she had no idea where the Hero of Ferelden was, he knew that she would know how to contact her. Talon had probably forgotten about him, and if she hadn’t, more than likely, she hated him. But an apology was long overdue. _“You’re my hero_ ,” the words were a quiet whisper in his mind and he frowned. The dream of Talon had been so vivid. As if she’d been right there in that room with him. Soft fingers in his hair, full lips against his.

Cullen nearly bolted upright, but he didn’t want to disturb the sleeping woman beside him. Had he… kissed her? Taasha?

“ _I didn’t mean it, Tally, I’m sorry. The things I said-”_

“ _I know you didn’t. You were just angry. Sleep now.”_ The words spoken so gently. Not Talon. He cursed silently. Andraste preserve him, it was no wonder Taashath had curled up on the floor so far away from him.

“I’m sorry, Taasha,” he murmured. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Cullen wasn’t sure how long they lay there, Taasha sleeping soundly beside him, while he mentally berated himself for everything he’d ever done wrong before she finally stirred. She shifted in his arms, then paused. “Cullen?” she said very quietly.

“Hi,” he murmured as she tilted her head back to look at him. He knew her vision was far better than his in the dark, so he tipped his face down to look at her.

“How did I- I was-”

“Sleeping on the hard floor, when we both know this bed is big enough for both of us.” Taasha shook her head and pushed herself away to sit up. “Is it my fault?” he asked as he followed, sitting up beside her. “Because of what I walked in and saw you doing that day? We haven’t talked about it, both pretended it didn’t happen.”

Taasha was shaking her head. “No, of course, it isn’t, don’t be silly.”

“Then is it because I kissed you?”

She went utterly still beside him for several heartbeats. “What? What are you talking about?” Then she was moving again, pushing back the blanket before she found the matches and lit a candle.

“Kissing you, saying Talon’s name-” she wasn’t looking at him, busying herself with the light. “Taasha.” Cullen reached out, caught her wrist.

Finally, she stopped and looked at him. Soft gold eyes meeting his. “Cullen, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him and he almost believed her. “You had dreams, some nightmares, you talked in your sleep. You did say Talon’s name more than a few times, but that’s it.” Taasha’s mouth turned up into that almost smile. “I slept over there because I didn’t want to disturb your sleep. You finally seemed to be resting.”

So they were going to pretend it never happened? Just like him watching her pleasure herself? “We’re okay then?” he asked, tentatively. Taashath was one of the most important people in his life and if he messed up their friendship because of a fever dream, he would never forgive himself.

Taashath smiled again, this time, it reached her eyes. “Of course,” she turned the wrist he still held, wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed. “How are you feeling?”

Exponentially better knowing that she didn’t hate him. “A little ragged,” he admitted. “But I’m okay. Thank you, for taking care of me.”

“You did the same for me, saved my life more than once if I recall.” After a moment, she finally stopped fussing with the candle and settled onto the floor. “Would you… tell me about Talon? You’ve mentioned her before but...”

Cullen sighed quietly, turned and leaned against the wall. “Only if you’ll come sit here with me,” he said, patting a spot on the bed beside him. She didn’t hesitate, which made the tightness in Cullen’s chest loosen. He took her hand in his and felt himself relax even more when she rested her head against his shoulder. “Talon Surana was an elven mage at Kinloch Hold. Her family and the other city elves did their best to hide her, and her magic to keep her out of the Circle, but eventually, the Templars found out. She had been there for a few years before I got there. We… got involved. Relationships between Templars and Mages is frowned upon, but not strictly forbidden. So long as it does not interfere with a Templar's duties.

“I was made to attend her Harrowing, as a test, or a reminder, maybe both, that I was her… jailer. If Talon had failed, I would have had to strike the deathblow.”

Taashath gasped softly, lifting her head. “That’s horrible! Why would they do such a thing?”

“Templars are meant to protect… mages from themselves, and the people from magic. They believed I was too invested in her. That I would let my heart rule. If she had come out of her Harrowing possessed-”

“Would you have been able to kill her?”

Cullen was quiet for a long moment. “Truthfully? Yes. It would have been difficult, it would likely have broken something inside of me because I did love her. But to save her soul from a demon? I’d have done anything.” Taashath squeezed his hand and he turned his head, pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “She got mixed up into some trouble that involved one of her friends, blood magic, and trying to escape. They would have made her Tranquil. But a Grey Warden was visiting, he invoked the Rite of Conscription, and then she was gone. Talon Surana went on to become the Hero of Ferelden.”

“There’s more though, isn’t there?” Taasha asked, rolling her head slightly to look up at him.

“I told you about the Circle falling to blood magic and demons, Talon had come in hopes of recruiting the mages to help fight against the Blight. She’s the only reason Kinloch Hold wasn’t burned to the ground. She saved my life, and I thanked her by hurling cruel insults at her. I never saw her again.”

“I’m sure she understood, forgave you,” Taashath told him and Cullen let out an unamused chuckle.

“No, I’m sure she didn’t.”


	23. Chapter 23

Needless to say, Taashath was not overjoyed by the fact that the Herald had returned to Haven. But so far, she hadn’t seen the woman, a little blessing that she would celebrate with pie. Bundled up, with basket in hand, she made her way from the tavern to the gates. She saw Cullen, heading for the Chantry, and he smiled when she offered a little wave. She had lied to him when he asked about the kiss. She wanted to pretend it never happened, not only because he’d said Talon’s name, but because she knew that neither he or anyone else, would ever want her like that.

Though she was treated well by the majority of the people at Haven, Taashath wasn’t a fool. _A beast. A monster. An ox_. No one would look at her with a heated gaze with the desire to have _more_. Slipping through the open gate she made her way past the stables, said hello to the Quartermaster, before continuing on her way. She saw a man she didn’t recognize leaning against the stone wall, staring up at the breach. _New recruit?_ She wondered as she continued past him.

Taashath didn’t go far, she found the apple tree and peered up into it. The apples weren’t great, definitely not ones to eat right off the tree, but she had discovered baking them with copious amounts of sugar and cinnamon made them down right palatable. Biting her lip she frowned, realizing that she’d already picked all the ones within easy reach. If she wanted apples, she’d have to climb. And Taasha really wanted apples. “Damn it,” she breathed out, set down her basket and stripped out of her heavy coat. She laid it out in the snow and was grateful she’d opted for the trousers and not a skirt.

“Please, Maker, let the tree be strong enough to hold me,” she muttered before reaching up to one of the thicker branches. It took her a moment to get her footing as she pulled herself up, but she was rewarded with plenty of apples for her pie. Gleeful, she began plucking them and gently tossing them onto her discarded coat. Peering down, she decided she had enough, tossed two more into the pile just for good measure, then tried to decide the best route down.

Halfway there, she heard a loud crack. The branch she had one hand wrapped around was suddenly falling, and then so was she. Taashath didn’t even have a chance to cry out, she barely even managed to gasp in a breath. One leg tangled around a branch, her back scraped along another. Then the back of her head slammed hard against the trunk and she was certain she’d blacked out.

Blinking, the world was upside down. A face, half obscured in darkness filled her vision and she blinked a few more times, realized it was dark hair and a beard. “Maker’s balls,” the gruff voice sounded as if from a distance. “Are you alright?”

“I think I fell,” she managed to get out. “Why are you upside down?”

He was muttering something, and she felt a hand slide into her hair. Her eyes slid shut because she liked it when Cullen touched her hair, and she realized, no one else ever had. “You’re bleeding,” the beard said and she blinked again. He shouted to someone and Taashath winced.

“Not so loud,” she said, and because she couldn’t help herself, she reached out and slid her fingers through the thick beard. It was soft, but course at the same time. The dark gray eyes that accompanied the beard widened.

“You’ll have to let go,” the beard told her and she shook her head then instantly regretted it. “We’ve got you, it’s the only way you’ll get down unless you wait for another branch to break.”

The beard almost sounded amused. Taashath was not. “You’ll drop me,” she said, realizing how precarious her position was. He wasn’t upside down. She was. She wasn’t sure how far off the ground she was, but she was pretty sure that if she loosened the grip her legs had around the all too thin branches, this man would drop her on her head and she’d break her stupid neck.

“No, I won’t,” he reassured her.

“Get Cullen, no, Maker, not Cullen.” She didn’t want him to see her like this. An idiot stuck in a tree. “Oliver! Get him, he’ll-” she broke off, remembering he was still in the Hinterlands. Her face fell into dismay and she realized she had no other choice. “If you drop me, I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll do something.”

Releasing her grip ever so slowly, she felt herself sliding down the tree, it hurt, the bark scratching hard into her back, but the beard didn’t drop her. Once she was upright, leaning against the tree, but this time with her rear on the ground, she realized the beard had been helped by Harritt. “Thanks,” she said, weakly.

Harritt grumbled something before walking off, and the man with the beard, the new recruit, she realized, crouched down beside her, one hand cupping the back of her head. “Any other injuries?” he asked. “Aside from the head?”

“Just a few scrapes and bruises, and maybe my pride is a little bit crushed too.” He chuckled quietly, a hand cupping her jaw. He tilted her face up to his as he looked her over. “I’m Taasha,” she told him.

“Blackwall,” he said, gloved thumb skimming the edge of her lip.

She’d heard that name before and she knit her brow together as she tried to remember where. “Oh,” it came out a breath and she felt like an even bigger fool. “Oh, Andraste’s knickerweasles.” She clamped her hand over the back of her head, over the handkerchief he was holding there and tried to scramble away from him. Warden Blackwall. He was the Warden Constable. She had just utterly embarrassed herself in front of a Grey Warden.

Taashath didn’t make it far before the sudden nausea swamped her and she froze. She felt his hand cup the back of her head again, ease her back against the tree once more, and she didn’t have the energy to resist. “You have a problem with Wardens?” he asked her, voice casual.

“No, no, of course not. I’ve only met one, a long time ago, she was… a hero. I’m just mortally embarrassed that I made such a fool out of myself in front of one.”

“I think we’ve all made a fool of ourselves in front of someone we wished we hadn’t. I know I have many a time. We should get you to Adan, let him take a look at this.”

“No,” Taasha said, her hand going up to replace his on the back of her head once again. “It’s alright, I’m- I have supplies back at the tavern. I can take care of it myself.”

“Why don’t you let me walk you,” Blackwall offered.

“You don’t need-”

“If you won’t let me take you to the healer, it’s the least you can let me do,” he insisted, then she watched him put all her apples into her basket before he stood up, shook her out coat, and held a hand out to her to help her up.

Once she was on her feet, he wrapped her coat over her shoulders and then slid her arm through the crook of his. Their progress was slow, and Taashath, mortified as she was, was grateful for the man. “I run the tavern here in Haven, anything you want, it’s on me, alright?” she said as they walked.

“I couldn’t-”

“You can because I said so.”

“Taashath!”

She looked up and caught sight of Cullen, jogging toward her, concern evident on his face. “What happened? Are you alright?” He reached her other side, one hand skimming her cheek before it slid into her hair. “What in the name of the Maker-”

“I fell, that’s all.”

“Out of a tree,” Blackwall said and Cullen glanced at him, before looking back at Taashath.

Her cheeks flamed. “I’m fine,” she told him. “Really, I hit my head, but it isn’t-”

“What were you doing in a tree?”

“Pie,” she said quietly and saw Cullen’s lips twitch.

“Maker’s breath, woman,” it was a sigh. “Alright, let’s get you to the tavern. Warden Blackwall,” Cullen inclined his head to the other man. “Thank you for assisting.”

Taashath caught sight of movement from the Chantry where Cullen had come from. Evelyn. She stood on the steps, staring down at them, and Taasha could practically feel the hate pouring off her. It made her want to shrink up into a little ball. “I’m fine, Cullen,” she tried to reassure him. “I’m sure the troops-”

“Darling,” there was a slight edge to his voice. Worry. She saw the lines around his eyes, the tension in his jaw, and she relented, forgetting about the angry Herald.

“Thank you, Blackwall,” she said, letting Cullen slip an arm around her waist. “I meant what I said, come to the tavern any time, food and drink are on the house. Promise you’ll come? I swear I’m not usually so...” she waved a hand, encompassing herself.

The man chuckled and handed the basket of apples off to Cullen. “Of course, my lady.” Then he inclined his head and walked away. Taasha leaned into Cullen as they made their way to the tavern.

“You’re upset,” she said quietly. “Because I was stupid?”

“What? No, of course not, well. Yes. Maker’s breath, Taasha. You could have been hurt… well, hurt worse. But that isn’t-” he broke off, shook his head and then they were at the tavern. Taashath sat in the chair by the fire while Cullen went off to grab the box of healing supplies.

“Then tell me what’s wrong,” she said when he came back. She drank the tonic, then tilted her head down so he could look at her wound. Cullen stood in front of her, between her thighs, her head low and the top pressing against his stomach as he worked. She felt him shudder and reached up, her hands coming to rest on his hips. “Tell me,” she repeated.

“The Templars. It’s a disaster. It already looked bad after what happened in Val Royeaux. But now… now everything just looks worse. Lady Trevelyan wants to use them when she attempts to seal the breach, but I worry that she isn’t moving fast enough.”

Taasha squeezed Cullen’s hips and mentally rolled her eyes. Of course, Lady Trevelyan wanted to use the Templars. Because mages couldn’t be trusted. She tried to remind herself that it wasn’t a personal attack. The Herald wasn’t doing it to spite her, but it was hard not to feel that way.

“I know that many of the Templars have strayed. But...” he trailed off, and Taashath felt him finish with the healing salve. He ran his hands through her hair and she tilted her head back to look up at him.

“But, you were a Templar. You still believe in them.”

“I do, I know it’s hard to imagine, and maybe I have no business still trying to hope for the best.”

“Of course you should. There are good ones out there, Oliver, Rylen, you.”

Cullen scoffed and shook his head. “Oliver and Rylen, I agree with that. They are good men, down to the core, but me, no.” He shook his head again. “I am sure many would agree that I am not a good man.”

Taashath made a quiet sound, her eyes slipping shut at the feel of Cullen’s fingers rubbing gently at the back of her neck. “You’re my hero,” she told him quietly. He stilled for a moment, then she felt his breath, warm against her forehead before he pressed his lips to it.

“Well, you’re _mine_.”

At that, she laughed quietly, then the moment was broken when the door opened and Flissa slipped inside. “I heard you fell out of a tree,” she called, tugging off her jacket and hanging it on one of the pegs near the door.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up super long in comparison to every single other chapter I have probably ever written...

Taashath stood at the counter, intent on the potatoes she was peeling for the next batch of stew. It was late in the afternoon, the tavern wasn’t full, only a handful of patrons were there. The door opened and Taasha glanced up, caught sight of the slight woman with dark brown hair and Maker, the last few weeks had been so nice. Evelyn had left again, though Taashath hadn’t been sure if she was disappointed or glad that she took the Warden with her.

Now, there she was again, stepping into the tavern. Evelyn met her gaze, walked in and then the man who came in behind her had Taashath’s breath catching in her throat.

_No_.

The potato and knife slipped from her fingers and then all Taashath knew was fire. “ _No. You won’t take me back there!_ ” She yelled in Qunlat as the massive Qunari came to a stop in front of the bar. Flames licked over her skin. Distantly, Taashath heard shouting, chairs scraping on wood.

“ _Taashath-eb,_ ” he said, holding his hands out in front of him.

“You don’t get to say that, Hissrad! I will not go back there.”

“Someone tell me what in the name of the Maker is going on,” Cullen’s voice. Where had he come from?

“Just a misunderstanding,” the Qunari said, calmly. “I’m not here for you, Saarebas.”

“That is not my name,” she snarled.

“No one is going anywhere,” Cullen said and she saw him from the corner of her eye, come to stand beside her.

“It’s all just a misunderstanding.”

“Liar,” Taashath spat, her eyes darting to Evelyn for a moment, the woman was simply watching the scene play out. The urge to lash out at her with the fire grew. This woman hated her so much, simply because she was-

“Saarebas,” he countered.

“That is not my name!” A hand slid over hers and Taashath immediately doused the flames that formed between her fingers, letting Cullen’s bare hand wrap around hers. But the rest of the flames still danced angrily over her skin.

“And I’m not Hissrad. I’m The Iron Bull these days.”

Cullen squeezed her hand, gently. “You two know each other?”

“Grew up in the Qun.”

“Right up until magic got the best of you.”

Taashath’s lip curled. “As if I asked for it,” she snarled.

“Taasha,” Cullen’s voice was soft and he squeezed her hand again. “Lady Trevelyan, explain what your intention was in bringing him here.”

Evelyn blinked in surprise at Cullen’s tone of voice. “I was told to get allies.” She waved a hand at The Iron Bull. “He contacted us, wanted to help. How the fuck was I supposed to know your precious little _mage_ would blow her fucking lid?! No one in this Maker forsaken place will tell me a fucking thing! I was told to get allies so that is what I was doing!”

She whirled around, stormed out, slamming the door hard behind her. Taashath let the flames fade, she looked at Iron Bull. “Is it true?” she asked.

“I don’t know about all of what she said, but yeah. Ben-Hassrath are concerned with the Breach. Magic out of control like that... I’m not here for you, Taasha.”

Taashath gave her head a sharp shake. “You don’t get to call me that.” Iron Bull gave a sharp nod, then he left, not slamming the door behind him. Taashath’s jaw trembled and she released her grip on Cullen’s hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Cullen asked, reaching out, he caught her hand, tugged her back to face him. “Hey, don’t cry.” He reached up, cupped her cheek and wiped at the tear that was rolling down her cheek.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I shouldn’t have…” she withdrew again, rubbed her hands over her face. “I overreacted, people saw, Evelyn already hates me, I’m sure that just proved to her how unstable mages are.”

Cullen cursed softly, grabbed Taashath’s hand and dragged her into the backroom where he made her sit on one of the crates. “Stop that,” he told her, hands coming up to cup her face. “Look at me.” She’d clenched her eyes shut, but after a moment she opened them and met his gaze. “You are not out of control.”

“You saw-”

“Taashath, you know as well as I do, that if I thought a mage was out of control, I would say something about it. You didn’t hurt anyone. You were prepared to defend yourself if it came down to it, but you didn’t attack, you didn’t throw a fireball at the Herald’s head when I know that is exactly what you wanted to do.”

She blushed, ducking her head. “That obvious, huh?”

“I know you,” Cullen said, then closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “You aren’t going anywhere. The people of Haven adore you.”

“Even after the spectacle I made of myself out there?”

“It’ll all blow over.”

Taasha sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. “What would I do without you, Cullen?” It made her chest feel tight just at the thought that one day he might not be with her. But someday, he would leave. Once the Breach was closed, and the Inquisition was done, he’d leave, make a life for himself, maybe with a wife and children. Her throat closed up and she pressed her cheek against his armored chest.

“You’ll never have to find out,” he said dropping a kiss to the top of her head and she wished it were true. After a while he pulled back enough to look at her, his brow furrowed. “That box, the one I brought the day I … was ill. What happened to it? Did you open it?”

Shaking her head she pushed up to her feet. “No, I forgot about it, Flissa stuck it behind the bar,” she told him walking out to the main room. In the time she’d been in the back with Cullen, Flissa had returned and so had a few patrons. A few glanced at her, but it seemed more out of curiosity than fear. She found the box, shoved behind several rows of mugs, and held it out to Cullen. “Here.”

“Come on,” he took the box, then her hand and led her into the back again. Again, he nudged her onto the crate and held the box in front of her. “It’s for you.”

“What is it?”

“Hopefully, still good.” She lifted the lid off the small wooden box and peered inside. Whatever it was, was wrapped in thick cotton. “I wrote to my sister a while ago, this… it’s something my mother made when we were little, usually for special occasions.” Folding back the fabric, inside were small, pale brown, squares. “Try one.”

Taashath glanced up at him, then carefully picked one up and brought it up to her lips. It smelled sweet, and her heart skipped a beat. For her. She sunk her teeth into it and nearly moaned. It was soft and sweet and delicious. “You did this, for me?”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I know how much you love sweets, and since you’re the only one for miles who makes pies...” He gave a little shrug and smiled.

Standing up, she took the box, set it on the crate and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Cullen.”

He hugged her back, and she didn’t mind that his armor was hard and jabbed into her. “You’re welcome. You like it?”

“I love it!” Taasha drew back, picked up the box after replacing the lid and clutched it to her chest. “I’m hiding this because I don’t want anyone else to get their hands on it.” Then she ducked her head down and pressed a kiss to Cullen’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said, then skittered off to find a place to stash her candy.

Hours later, the tavern filled up some, and Taashath could feel everyone’s eyes on her. Watching her. Waiting. As if they fully expected her to spontaneously combust again. “I- Flissa, do you mind? I need some air. I can’t-” she broke off and was so grateful when Flissa shooed her off.

“I’ve got it, you go.” She grabbed her jacket and slipped out of the tavern, then through the front gates of Haven. She began walking and nearly did an about-face when she saw Iron Bull sitting outside his tent with his companions.

“No,” she breathed out. “I am not that weak. I am not so afraid of him that I can’t go for a walk.” Besides, if she went the other way she’d likely run into Cullen and if she did, she knew he’d start worrying about her, and he had more than enough to deal with as it was. She walked past Iron Bull, the stables, then the forge.

“My lady,” Warden Blackwall sat on a wooden stool, working a small object in his hand. After a moment she realized he was carving something with a knife and a small piece of wood.

“Warden Blackwall,” she inclined her head.

“A bit late to go traipsing through the woods, isn’t it?”

“Maybe?” she shrugged but didn’t continue on her way. She’d wanted to have the opportunity to talk to him when he’d first arrived, then he’d been gone for weeks, now he was back and she’d gone and made a fool of herself in front of everyone. “What are you making?”

“Oh, this? It isn’t much. Just keeps the hands busy,” he said, then held it out to her. It was a nug. A little wooden nug that fit in the palm of her hand.

A laugh escaped her. “It’s lovely,” she told him, then handed it back. “You heard, didn’t you?” because Taashath knew how quick gossip spread.

Blackwall looked at her, then glanced down the dirt path to The Iron Bull’s tent. “You alright?”

She wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned against the stone wall. “I’m an idiot, is what I am.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You heard what happened, right? The Herald and The Iron Bull walked into the bar and I… whoosh!” she threw a hand up in the air. “A lot of people already have trouble trusting mages, the fact that I’m a Qunari mage… I’m already on thin ice.”

Blackwall shook his head, going back to his task. “That isn’t what I heard,” he said. “From what I’ve gathered, most people just wanted to get out of the potential crossfire. They are curious maybe, afraid? Some might be, but most of them, no.”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Taashath pursed her lips. Maybe because he’d spent weeks with Evelyn, who Taashath imagined would be more than happy to see Taasha driven from Haven by an angry mob.

 

“Lady Trevelyan,” Cullen said as they stepped out of the Chantry after a late evening in the War Room.

“What.” she said between grit teeth, knowing he was going to lay into her, but she didn’t want to give him a chance. “Look, I get it, okay? No one wanted me here, you all wanted Hawke, or the fucking Hero or Ferelden, but tough shit because of this _fucking mark_ you’re stuck with me.”

“That is not-”

“Oh, was this about your precious little Taasha? As demonstrated today, she can take care of herself, she doesn’t need the mighty Commander protecting her from the big bad Herald of Andraste. I couldn’t touch her in this town, even if I wanted to.”

“Are you done?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, we’re done.” She turned on her heel and stormed away, her blood boiling. Cullen called after her, but she ignored him and stormed through the gates of Haven. She passed Iron Bull and came to an abrupt stop when she saw none other than Taashath sitting on a stool, with Blackwall leaning over her. What was it about this woman? She couldn’t help but wonder, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. “The Commander is looking for you,” she lied, but it was probably true.

“Oh,” Taashath looked up, a startled expression on her face. “Thank you, Warden Blackwall, maybe another time,” she handed him back the piece of wood, and the small knife Evelyn knew he used for carving before she scurried away.

“My lady,” Blackwall said and she silently cursed. It wasn’t fair, the way his voice tugged at something low in her belly. Especially when he said that.

“I’ll be leaving for Therinfal Redoubt in the morning. Will you accompany me?” The man was a strong fighter, she would appreciate having him at her back. And, other places. He was silent, just watching her and it made her insides start to squirm. Of course, he’d heard about what happened in the tavern. Now he hated her, just like everyone else. “Right, well, then. Never mind.” Evelyn spun around, ignoring the ache in her chest. She barely took half a step when Blackwall’s big hand curled around her bicep and yanked her back around.

Her body pressed against his and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. “Let. Go. Of. Me.” she ground out between gritted teeth. He released her, immediately, but he didn’t take a step back and neither did she.

“Is that all you wanted?” he asked curiously. “You know I’ll follow you, wherever you go. Especially if you’re going into a dangerous situation.” Evelyn swallowed hard. “What do you have against her?” he asked, one hand coming up to curl a lock of her hair around his gloved finger.

Moment broken, she stepped away, shaking her head. “Everyone fucking adores her.” Evelyn rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I can guarantee you they would all rather she had this mark than me. She’s Haven and the Inquisition’s little sweetheart.” And Evelyn couldn’t figure out why. Few people had anything negative to say about her. _Because she’s a good person, unlike you_.

“Are you jealous?” Blackwall asked and she felt her spine stiffen.

“Fuck you,” she snarled and she shouldn’t have been surprised when he reeled her in again.

“I’d be more than happy to after you answer me.”

She clenched her jaw, her body warring with her will. Apparently, she didn’t have much pride left. “Yes, okay? Are you happy? Everyone in this fucking village adores her. Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, Cullen-”

“Ah,” Blackwall said with a nod. “That’s what it is then. The Commander.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at the Warden. “I’m not blind. The man is attractive. But I don’t care who he’s fucking. I don’t care that they are so fucking ass over tea kettle for each other. Good luck with that by the way,” she jerked her head slightly, indicating the way Taashath had gone.

“They aren’t, fucking, at least not according to Taasha.”

It stung. She truly didn’t care about Cullen and Taashath’s relationship, but that Blackwall had apparently asked? “Maybe you should stay when I leave for Therinfall. I hear they spend most nights together, but I’m sure you could find a time-”

The swat on her ass had her falling silent in shock. “Should I put you over my knee like a spoiled child?” Heat flooded her face and she was torn between outrage and … something distinctly not outrage. No one had ever slapped her bottom. “You’re acting like one.”

“I’m not-” But wasn’t she? Evelyn hadn’t gone out of her way to try and make friends once she’d awoken in that cell beneath the Chantry all those months ago. Blackwall quirked an eyebrow at her. Shame washed over her. “You’re right,” she said the words quietly. “I apologize, Warden Blackwall.” ducking her head, she turned away.

“My lady,” his voice was so low it made her insides quiver and she stopped walking and a moment later felt the heat of him at her back.

“You don’t want me,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “I’m not a nice person.”

His hand slid from her shoulder, down her arm. “And I’m not a good person.” Blackwall lowered his head, nuzzled the side of her neck and the way his beard scraped at the soft skin there nearly had her moaning. “But what was it that you said? “That’s no reason to go through the world, horny and angry?”

Evelyn let out a quiet burst of laughter. She might have been a bit drunk when she’d tried propositioning Blackwall the first night after they left Haven. The Dwarven ale had proven to be stronger than she’d anticipated. Blackwall had turned her down, ushered her back to her tent and she’d gone, mortified. The next night, both of them sober, he’d laid a claim on every inch of her body.

“ _There can be no future for us,” he’d told her, the both of them sweaty and gasping for breath in the aftermath._

“ _I don’t want one,” she managed to get out. “But I’d like you in my bed, while it lasts.”_

“ _Deal.”_


	25. Chapter 25

Haven was practically crawling with Templars. They made Taashath’s skin crawl. As expected, many of them had found their way into the tavern and she wasn’t surprised by the number of them that turned and left as quickly as they’d entered upon seeing her. Apparently, the Herald had not informed them of the dread Saarebas, or maybe they had just wanted to see for themselves. She rolled her eyes because she knew she was being ridiculous.

 

Evelyn and the Templars had succeeded. They had closed the Breach and Haven were celebrating. Taashath didn’t know what would happen now. But she knew what she needed to do. She packed up a small leather satchel with a few things then looked at Flissa. “I’m going to head out for a bit, you got things covered here?”

 

“It’s fine,” Flissa said with a bright smile. “You going to join the party? I can hear the music from here, you should ask the Commander for a dance.”

 

Taashath’s brow furrowed. Dance? With Cullen? She had no idea how to dance, and she didn’t think Cullen would like dancing. “I won’t be gone long,” she said, ignoring it.

 

“Don’t worry about it, have fun. You deserve to have some fun. Always working. Go,” Flissa made a shooing motion with her hands and Taashath couldn’t help but laugh quietly, before clicking her tongue.

 

“Parrot, are you coming?” The cat zipped across the bar and leaped onto Taashath’s back before climbing up to drape himself over her shoulders.

 

“Isn’t Parrot a bit of a silly name for a cat?” Flissa asked and Taasha laughed, rubbing her cheek against her not-so-little-anymore, cat’s head.

 

“I didn’t name him,” she called, before leaving the tavern. It didn’t take Taashath long to find her. Evelyn sat alone, one hand rubbing her temple. The exhaustion practically radiated off her. Drawing in a deep breath, Taashath reached into her bag and withdrew a small vial before crossing to where Evelyn sat.

 

It took several long moments for the woman to realize Taashath stood there. Cautiously she eyed the vial, then took it between two fingers as if it were going to bite her. “What is it? Poison?”

 

“Oh,” Taashath said with a quiet breath before sinking down onto the wooden bench beside her. “I didn’t even think of that. That would have been a good idea.” She glanced at Evelyn who looked very suspicious. “You’re head hurts. You’ve looked fairly miserable since you returned from Therinfal Redoubt. You look worse from having closed the breach.”

 

“Thanks,” Evelyn said, the sarcasm heavy in her tone.

 

“It’s a tonic that should help with the pain. Maybe make you feel a little less drained.” Taasha rubbed her cheek while Evelyn silently debated. When she asked why Taashath smiled a little. “I was hoping we could call a truce. You and I. Haven… Haven is my home. It’s the only one I have ever known. I’m not leaving. You’re a part of the Inquisition. You’re not leaving. It would just be easier on everyone if we could… not hate each other? I think Cullen has had it with the both of us.” Evelyn remained quiet, and Taashath sighed quietly. “Or if you’d just prefer to hate me, that’s fine, I guess.” She moved to stand up.

 

“I wasn’t trying to cause trouble by bringing The Iron Bull,” Evelyn said, then pulled the stopper on the little vial and downed the contents. “Maker’s balls that is foul. Are you sure it wasn’t poison?”

 

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to see, won’t me,” Taasha said, reaching up to rub Parrot’s ears. The cat purred loudly.

 

“I’ve seen that cat around, didn’t know he was yours.”

 

“Yes, and someone has been feeding Parrot, Maker knows what, the little beast weighs a ton.”

 

There was a moment of stunned silence. “Parrot? You named your cat… Parrot?”

 

“I didn’t. Cullen did. I had no idea what the word meant at the time.”

 

There was a long, drawn out silence. “You’ve known Cullen for a long time,” Evelyn said.

 

“I have. I was in Kirkwall during the Qunari uprising,” Taashath admitted. “Not by choice. Saarebas are simply weapons. Nothing else. I wasn’t the only one there. I survived the initial attack, separated from my Kith… Varric talks about Hawke regularly, but, have you met her?” Evelyn shook her head. “She’s… terrifying. So strong-willed and reckless, and somehow, I survived. Cullen found me. Saved me from a mob that dragged me into the streets with the intention of killing me.”

 

“Why would he do that?”

 

“I have no idea. He took me out to the Wounded Coast. He was going to kill me. Held the sword to my throat and I was prepared to let him kill me. A Saarebas isn’t ever supposed to be apart from their Arvaarad. In the Qun, there is only one solution. Death. I … I wasn’t strong enough to follow the Qun. I couldn’t kill myself. But, instead, Cullen left. I won’t bore you with the details, but he saved my life several times over before I left Kirkwall for good. We hadn’t seen each other for over six years before he arrived in Haven.” Her lips twisted into a smile, still so grateful.

 

Evelyn was quiet for several minutes, then she tugged the necklace she always wore over her head, flipped open the locket and held it out for Taashath to see. Two miniature paintings. One of a man, with a gentle smile and red curls. The other, of a little boy. “My husband and son were in Kirkwall during the attack. Visiting his family. I was going to join them later… but then...” she made a quiet sound and Taashath saw her dash the tears from her cheeks. “They were all killed. His entire family slaughtered.”

 

Taasha’s chest felt tight. It was impossible to tell. The painting so small, the memory so old. But the little boy, standing on the front step of a burning house, screaming and screaming. She closed her eyes tightly. Remembered her small rebellion, missing the child with her fireball. But she hadn’t saved him. “I’m sorry,” Taashath managed around a throat that felt tight with emotion.

 

“I don’t understand your reaction to The Iron Bull. I’d thought… I don’t know what I’d thought… that having someone of your own kind… it was stupid, obviously.”

 

“The Qun doesn’t tolerate deserters. I’m Tal-Vashoth. A mage at that. The worst of the worst. One of the things the Ben-Hassrath do, is track them down, kill them.”

 

“It sounded like you knew him, before.”

 

“When we were small children. We’re the same age, roughly. We were raised together until I got my magic..”

 

They were quiet for a long while before Evelyn spoke again. “I know that saying I’m sorry really doesn’t count for much of anything, especially after… everything. I was scared, when I woke up, with Cassandra looming over me, threatening me, and this … damn mark. I believe in the Maker. I want to believe I was chosen, but all I can think is… why would Andraste choose me? I’m not a nice person. Obviously, because I was terrified and angry that I was here and you were an easy target.”

 

“How is your head?” Taashath asked.

 

“Better, thank you,” but still, she reached up and rubbed her temple, as if it still pained her. Taashath made a mental note to collect more of the plant that when dried and ground up, mixed with elfroot it did wonders for pain.

 

“Truce?” Taasha asked and Evelyn let out a breath, then held her hand out.

 

“Truce.” She agreed. Taashath took the small woman’s hand, squeezed. Then, for the first time since they had met, they shared a small smile and a moment of peace and in the next moment, chaos reigned. Loud bells were clanging and people were suddenly running, screaming. “What is that?” Evelyn looked at Taashath and she could see the fear in her eyes.

 

“We need to find Cullen or Cassandra.” Both women jumped up, and Taashath slipped Parrot off her shoulders and held him to her chest as they ran through Haven to the front gates. After Cullen explained what was happening, the attack on Haven, Evelyn rushed off to get her armor and weapons, while Taashath chewed on her lip at Cullen’s side.

 

“Get to the Chantry, please,” he said, reaching out to rub Parrot’s head. The cat was not pleased, squirming and agitated in Taasha’s arms.

 

“But I can help,” she said, meeting his gaze.

 

“I know you can, but please, Taasha, help the people of Haven get to the Chantry.” She stared at him, then looked out to the mountain at the advancing force. Taasha was afraid to fight. She’d never wanted to be a warrior. But she would if she had to. Because it was the right thing to do. His hand slid from Parrot’s head, along her arm. “Please, darling.”

 

Her heart clenched, because how could she deny him when he looked at her like that? “One of these days, that won’t work on me.”

 

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “Then I will dread that day. Now, go and be careful.”

 

“You too, Commander.” Then as she hurried away from the front gates, she sent up a silent prayer to the Maker, even though she wasn’t sure she believed. But Cullen did, and Taasha needed him to be safe. She hurried down the path, intending on heading for the Chantry, but she remembered Flissa. Would the other people have left the tavern when the alarm bells started ringing? And surely, there were other people, confused and scared. “Sorry, love,” Taasha said, lifting the still squirming Parrot up to she could look at his face. “But thank you, Talon.” She pressed her fingers to the cats head, closed her eyes and cast the small spell that Talon had taught her. The cat made a quiet sound of protest, then went limp in her arms. Fear clogged her throat for a moment, but he was still breathing. “You’ll be safe this way,” she said blinking back the tears, before carefully tucking him into her leather pack that hung at her hip. Then she was running toward the tavern, holding the pack to prevent it from jostling too much.

 

Taashath came to an abrupt stop, staring in horror at the tavern. It was engulfed in flames. “Help!” A voice cried from inside. _Flissa_. Taasha ran to the door, it was blocked by heavy debris and flames. The flames… the flames she could deal with.

 

Could she control fire she hadn’t started? Taking a breath, she let the fire wrap around her. “I’m coming, Flissa!” she called out and then she held her hands up to the flames. If she could just- The sound was deafening. The crack. The explosion of sound. And Taashath could do nothing but scream. “NO!” The roof collapsed. “Flissa! Flissa!” But she knew. She knew the other woman was dead. Tears dripped from her eyes but dried the moment they touched her cheeks.

 

A spell hit her in the back, it felt cold, but the fire she’d wrapped around herself had it quickly dissipating. Whirling around she stared at the mage. People already hated them enough. This would only make matters worse. Rage and fear took over and even though it had been six years since she’d fought using her magic, Taashath launched a ball of fire at the man. The ball landed in the center of his chest. He screamed. Then went silent.

 

The Chantry. She needed to get to the Chantry. More mages were breaking over the wall. Taashath offered them no leniency. The Chantry was within her line of sight. It looked clear, most of the people of Haven were already there. She saw Cullen, standing on the front steps. Even from so far, she could see the worry.

 

“I’m coming,” she whispered. One step, two. Then nothing. The flames around her were doused like a bucket of water on a campfire. Pain exploded in her head and the snap of her connection with the Fade took her breath. _No_ , she thought. _No_. The Templars were supposed to be on their side. Turning her head, she saw him. Full armor, face obscured. Unconsciousness was coming on fast. Would he kill her? The grip on his sword told her he would. “Oh,” it was a disappointed breath of sound. She didn’t want to die.


	26. Chapter 26

“Taashath,” Evelyn saw the woman struggling to get to her feet. She’d collapsed onto her knees at the top of the stairs not far from the burning tavern. She looked disoriented. Had she taken a blow to the head? Evelyn wondered. Taashath opened her mouth, but no sound came out. “Let’s get you to the Chantry,” she slid an arm around her waist and struggled to get her to her feet. It was like supporting dead weight.

“I’m… pass out.” The words were slurred and she could tell Taasha was fighting hard against whatever was happening. “Cull-… si… silence...” She sagged.

“Cullen!” Evelyn shouted, seeing the man in question standing on the steps. Cullen turned his head, spotted them, then he was running. He closed the distance quickly, and Evelyn was grateful because she wasn’t sure how much farther she’d have been able to get Taashath.

“Taasha, Taasha, darling, what happened?” Cullen cupped her face between his hands. She blinked, slowly, then her eyes rolled back and Cullen was cursing as he slid his arm around her from the other side. “We need to get her to the Chantry.”

“She said something about silence.”

Cullen cursed again, glanced around. “Did you see any Templars around her?”

Evelyn shook her head. “I didn’t see anyone, a handful of dead mages, I suspect were her doing since they were still smoldering, but that’s all. She told me she was going to pass out when I found her.”

“If she was using her magic, and a Templar cast Silence over her… this has happened before. I don’t know why… if her connection to the Fade is just so strong when she’s casting, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” They got her into the Chantry and laid her out with the other injured. She’d be fine, Cullen told himself.

“Is she going to be alright?” Evelyn asked, and Cullen was surprised to hear the actual concern in her voice.

“She’ll be fine,” he said, stroking a lock of hair back from her face. Cullen looked over her, quickly searching for any other injuries and was grateful that he found none. The leather satchel she wore strapped across her chest was singed and he worried, remembering she’d had Parrot with her, and the bag lay still and silent. Carefully, he pulled the bag over her head and peered inside. The cat lay curled up and unmoving. His chest felt tight. She’d be heartbroken. But then he noticed, _Thank the Maker,_ it was breathing.

Worried and not wanting the bag to be kicked aside, or anything, he tugged it over his head and across his chest then after giving Taashath’s hand a squeeze, he hurried off to join the others.

“I’ll go,” Evelyn said, sounding far more confident than she looked while staring at the door and not meeting anyone’s eye. “Get them to safety, Commander.”

“Let that thing hear you,” Cullen said. “If we are to have a chance...” It was suicide. “If you are-”

“Keep them safe, Commander,” she gave him a half smile, then slipped through the doors, Warden Blackwall, Cassandra, and Vivienne at her side.

Then, Cullen did just that. They followed the path beneath the Chantry and escaped into the mountains. Taasha was still unconscious, and it worried Cullen. But then again, he’d had to leave her the last time he’d cast Silence over her, and he had no idea how long it would last. Maker, he prayed she’d wake up soon.

They made their escape from Haven and finally, at a safe distance, they lit the flare. Nothing happened. He and the others stood there, watching, waiting, with dread eating away at them as the seconds ticked on. Someone moved to stand beside him and he glanced over, saw Taashath, looking a little bit haggard. “What-” it was a quiet whisper, broken off in realization just as the mountain finally came down, wiping out all that was left of Haven. “Oh no,” she breathed, and Cullen reached out, wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed.

A few more hours of travel passed before they stopped to set up their meager camp. Cullen was organizing small search parties of scouts to go back, to look for survivors, and Evelyn. “I’m going with you,” Taashath said as she came to stand beside him. She didn’t look any better than she had when she’d first woken up.

“No,” he said with the finality that would have sent any of his soldiers running.

“Don’t tell me no,” she said, tugging her coat tighter around herself. A scarf was wound around her neck and pulled up over the top of her head. The circles beneath her eyes were what worried him the most. “I’m coming with you.”

“Taasha,” Cullen sighed. “Darling, you’re exhausted. You’re not-”

“Yes. I. Am.”

Cullen looked at her and he knew that fighting would get them nowhere. “I honestly was hoping it would take a bit longer for that,” he said, referring to her telling him earlier that calling her ‘darling’ wouldn’t always get his way.

“Not when it comes to this,” she said with a shrug. “Now, come on, we have a Herald to find.” Cassandra took a small group of soldiers, Leliana sent out her scouts. Cullen sent Rylen and Oliver with another handful of soldiers before he, Taashath and Warden Blackwall started out on their own.

It took nearly two days to find Evelyn and over the course of those two days, Taashath refused to stop searching, despite her weariness. “That is enough,” Cullen finally said, tugging Taashath over to a fallen tree.

“No,” she said. “We need to keep looking.”

Aggravated, he yanked a vial out of the pouch on his belt. “Drink it,” he said, using every bit of his _Commander_ voice.

Taashath stared at him for a long moment, then her lips curled into a faint smile. “Of course, darling,” she murmured, taking the vial. “All you had to do was ask.” Cullen cursed softly, but he stood there, watching, waiting for her to drain the contents. “Tastes like Kirkwall,” she said, face twisting with disgust before she reached out and took his hand. “I’m okay, Cullen, I promise.” Cullen cupped her cheek and she leaned into the touch, her eyes slipping shut. “We are going to find her, right? She’ll be okay?”

“Maker, I hope so.” Cullen didn’t want to even think of the possibilities of what would happen without her. She was the only one who could seal the rifts and there were still many across Thedas.

“Should we stop for a while?” Blackwall asked, stepping closer after having wandered off to give them some semblance of privacy. He looked between Cullen and Taashath, and they both knew he was eager to keep looking.

“No,” Taashath said with a shake of her head. “I’m alright, we’ll find her.”

 

Evelyn felt as if she was frozen solid, and her head hurt. Maker, it had never hurt so bad. She struggled to get off the cot, then went searching for the one person who she thought might make it better. People slept mostly. It was late. There were scouts and patrols out, but she just waved them off when the approached. She spotted Cullen, back leaning against a boulder, with Taashath in his arms the cat sleeping, curled up between them. She lay curled up on his chest, looking smaller than Evelyn ever imagined the large woman could appear.

“Lady Trevelyan,” Cullen said, voice low and laced with concern when she stopped near him.

“Is she okay?” Evelyn asked, gesturing to the sleeping woman.

“She is,” Cullen said. “Though she insisted on helping with the search for you. Be glad she did, she spotted you first.”

Evelyn crouched down beside her, could see the tear tracks on Taashath’s cheeks. “I…” she trailed off, vaguely remembering her amidst the cold and the pain and the calls of her name and her title. “She’s okay though?”

“She’s fine. Upset about Haven, about Flissa, but she’ll be fine. You should get back to the healer’s tent, you were badly injured.”

“My head hurts,” Evelyn said, reaching up to rub at her temple again. It felt as if it had hurt for months. “I’m fine,” she reassured him. “I’ll go back,” it was a lie and she continued in her search. Finally, she spotted him. Blackwall lay on his back, one arm up and behind his head, a thin blanket draped over him.

She kicked him in the side, harder than she’d meant to. She’d only wanted to nudge him but it felt as if her body was not her own to command. “Shit,” she whispered, hitting her knees beside him as he jerked up into a sit. “Sorry, I didn’t…” Evelyn reached out, her hand touching his side. “I’m sorry.”

Blackwall blinked at her several times. “You’re supposed to be resting. On the cot. With the healers.”

“I’m cold,” it was a whispered sob. “My head hurts and I’m just so cold, please-”

He didn’t even put up a token protest. Blackwall dragged her close and wrapped the blanket around her, before wrapping his own body around her. “You’re exhausted,” Blackwall rasped against her ear and she buried her face against his beard, enjoying the scratch of it, despite how horrible she felt.

The dreams, by the Maker, the dreams were horrible. Evelyn watched Haven burn, again and again. Heard the screams and cries of the dying. _You failed them_ , the voice whispered in her ear. _You failed them all. They’ll die out here. Freeze to death. For what? So you could play at being a hero? You’re no hero_.

She jerked awake with a silent shout, felt someone’s arms tighten around her, hold her. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. “Hush,” a voice rasped against her ear. Familiar, the gravely rumble. “Evie, calm down, you’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”

Evie. No one had called her Evie in years. Curly red hair and a boyish grin. _Evie, my love, my light_.

All the words were trapped in her throat. “I’ve got you,” Blackwall’s voice, calm and quiet. A small sob escaped and she clung to him tighter.

“’m so scared.”

His big hand palmed the back of her head and she felt his forehead against hers. “You’re okay,” he murmured, reassuring her.

“I failed,” she rasped. “They’re dead. They’re all dead-”

Blackwall shushed her gently. “They’re not. You didn’t fail. You’re just exhausted, and you’re hurt. You need to rest. Rest, Evie. I’m here. I’ve got you.”


	27. Chapter 27

The weeks it took to reach Skyhold took their toll on everyone, then, once they arrived in Skyhold, there was so much more work to do just to make the place livable. Taashath didn’t think she’d ever been so tired in all her life as she trudged up the stairs to the tower that Cullen had claimed. All she wanted was sleep. Shelves were built into the walls, and there was a massive desk sitting in the center of the room.

“Where did _that_ come from?” she asked, staring at the solid looking piece of furniture.

Cullen glanced over from where he was working to rehang a door in one of the three doorways. “They found it in the cellar under the main building.” Then he cursed quietly when the door slipped and failed to slide into the hinge.

Taasha crossed the room, slid through the doorway and held the door from the other side. “Is there a reason you’re doing all of this alone?” she asked.

“Everyone else has more important things to be doing,” he said and then grinned when, with her help, the door slid home. “Thank you,” he caught her hand and tugged her back inside, then swung the door shut. “Have you found your own quarters yet?” Living space was tight, and he knew that she wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing a space with anyone.

“I did,” she said with a nod, then crossed over to the desk. Idly, she traced her fingers over the dark wood. “It’s pretty,” she murmured. The desk was masterfully crafted.

“Taasha,” Cullen said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh,” she smiled a little, then sat on the edge of the desk. “It’s near the gardens.” She watched Cullen move across the room and come to stand between her thighs. Her eyes slipped shut as he wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest plate.

“Do you have a bed?” She made a quiet humming sound. She’d lost everything in Haven. The fact that she and Parrot had survived felt like a miracle. Then, as they had traveled to Skyhold, she had shared the too small bedroll with Cullen every night. Taasha wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having to get used to sleeping alone again, she’d grown accustomed to the feel of Cullen’s arms around her, his body next to her. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, one hand sliding into her hair. She made another quiet sound and felt Cullen’s lips against her forehead. “Come on, go up the ladder.”

“Ladder?” she pulled back, her brow knit together, then she looked to where he pointed. A ladder she hadn’t noticed, that went up and up to a loft above the room. “Oh, is that… is that going to be your quarters?”

“It is, go on,” he tugged her off the edge of the desk and, curious, she hurried to it.

After a moment she grabbed one of the rungs. “It won’t break, will it?” she asked, looking up the length of the wooden ladder.

“No,” he told her, coming to stand beside her. “It’s solid.” Then she quickly scrambled up it. Once she reached the top, Cullen followed. An old dresser sat against one wall, the drawers hanging out and broken. In the center was the remnants of an old bed frame, that with a little work, could be usable again. Beside the bed frame was their thin bedroll. “Why don’t you get some rest, you’re exhausted.”

“Are you saying I look terrible?” she quipped, but she was so tired, she couldn’t even argue.

“You’ve barely rested since Haven.”

She crossed to the bed and sat down on it then looked up at Cullen. “You have things to do, don’t you?”

Cullen followed, stripping his armor and laying it out on the dresser before sinking down beside her. “I can stay for a bit. Come here,” he said, tugging her into his arms. “Talk to me,” he murmured as she lay down with her head resting on his chest.

“About?” But she knew. They had avoided discussing most of what happened in Haven. Nothing beyond Flissa and the tavern.

“The Templar.” She shuddered against him, turned her face and buried it against his chest. “Tell me, darling.”

So she did. “I was heading for the Chantry like you _ordered_ me to,” Cullen muttered something low, and Taasha smiled a little, “but then went to the tavern first, I wanted to get Flissa. I wasn’t sure if she was still there, or if she’d already run. I was too late. I couldn’t-” her voice broke. “I could see her, she was pinned down by part of the roof.” Cullen’s arms tightened around her. “I wasn’t quick enough. The whole roof caved in and… then there were mages, coming over the fence. So many of them. I haven’t used my magic like that in a long time. I haven’t… killed since… well, since Kirkwall, since the Circle. I killed them all.” She splayed her hand out over his heart, could hear the steady beat of it against her ear.

Cullen was constant. Her constant.

“What happened next?”

“I was about to run for the Chantry. I could see you, standing on the steps, you were shouting at people, helping them through the doors. Then… it was gone. My magic, the Fade. Snapped like a string pulled too taught. He had his sword drawn, he was going to kill me.”

“He? Did you get a look at him? Could you identify him if you saw him again?”

Taashath shook her head a little, her eyes drooping. “No, no, I didn’t see him. Her. It could have been her. But, they were tall. Could have been the helmet. I’m not sure.”

Cullen’s fingers absently traced the edge of her ear and she hummed quietly. “I want you to be careful. I don’t like that someone attacked you-”

“It was chaos, Cullen.”

“And if it weren’t for Lady Trevelyan finding you when she did, you’d be dead. You were well known in Haven, the Templar who attacked you had to have known who you were.”

She hummed again, quietly, her lips curving into a grin as she tipped her head back. Her eyes were still closed, but she could picture the look of frustrated anger on his face. “You’re so...I like it. When you protect me. You don’t need to, Cullen. But I like it.”

Cullen was silent for a long moment, and Taashath felt sleep pulling at her. “You’d do the same for me, darling.”

She smiled again. “I would.”

“Now, sleep,” he whispered and she nodded, burrowing into his side.

Cullen held her while she slept and mulled over what happened in Haven. A Templar. There were so many new ones, arriving every day, there was a chance they hadn’t known who Taashath was, had just seen a mage and wanted to protect the people of Haven. But something about it nagged at him. It would never happen again. He wouldn’t allow it. The mages who sought out the Inquisition to help and for safety would not live in fear of Templars.

He would speak with Rylen, and they would make it clear to the troops. Tilting his head down to press a kiss to the crown of Taasha’s head, he let out a quiet sigh. She could have been killed. The reality hadn’t struck him until he’d spoken. If it weren’t for Lady Trevelyan… Taashath would have died in Haven.

 

Evelyn’s head still hurt. Maker, she’d tried everything. Tonics and tinctures. She’d even allowed a mage to try, but that had only made it worse. The banging and clattering of people as they worked on fixing up Skyhold didn’t help. She’d slunk into the barn, curled up in a corner, with her hands clamped over her ears, willing away the noise.

“My lady,” Blackwall’s voice was too loud and she grit her teeth and hissed. Work-roughened palms covered her hands and she cracked open first one eye, then she was so grateful for his size as he blocked out most of the light. “You’re head still hurting?” he asked, voice a low whisper and angry tears burned her eyes.

_So weak. You’re so weak_. “I’m fine,” it came out a croak and he raised his brows.

“I’ll go get you one of the tonics.”

“They don’t help!” she snapped, then immediately regretted it as the pain surged. “Fuck,” she said through gritted teeth. Evelyn shoved to her feet and pushed past him as she scrambled to get away, though she didn’t know why. She just needed to go-

“Evie,” his voice was soft, gentle.

And it snapped something inside of her. “Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that! That is what he-” she broke off, sunk down to her knees and pressed her face into her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t… it just hurts so much."

Blackwall brushed his hands off on his pants as he got to his feet and crossed to where she knelt. He was wary about reaching out to touch her, unsure if she’d want his touch or not. “Lady Trevelyan,” he said quietly and the sob she let out tugged at what was left of his heart.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered. “I don’t know, Maker, Blackwall, it hurts.”

“I know, love,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and cradling her against his chest. They had tried everything, and nothing seemed to be working to relieve the pain. “I have an idea, you tell me no at any time and I’ll stop, but maybe it will distract you for a little while.” Her brow knit and he carried her over to the bales of hay and set her down. “Wait here, just for a minute, I’ll be right back.” True to his word, he dashed out of the barn and was back before she knew it. Two thick furs in hand.

Blackwall spread them out on the bales of hay and then nudged Evelyn back. “I’m so tired of sleeping,” she told him, one hand rubbing her temple.

“That’s good because I didn’t have sleep in mind.” He knelt at her feet and began untying the laces of her boots.

“Oh,” it was a breath of sound.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wasn't planning on telling really any of the story from Evelyn's perspective, just Taashath, Cullen and the occasional Blackwall, but her character has taken on more life than I had anticipated. Hopefully, you don't mind.

Blackwall dropped Evelyn’s boots to the floor with a soft thud then looked up at her face. Her eyes were clenched shut. “The light hurt?” he asked, keeping his voice low as he moved up the length of her body.

“Uh-huh,” she gave a jerky nod.

“Alright,” he murmured and tugged a dark-colored handkerchief from his pocket. He folded it a few times, then urged Evelyn to sit up so that he could cover her eyes.

“What-oh,” she breathed, one hand coming up to touch the soft fabric.

“Better?” he asked letting his fingers stroke along her jaw and she nodded. “Good.” Blackwall nudged her back again and moved down the length of her body. Fingers dipped beneath the hem of her shirt, inched it up. Lips soft, and beard coarse against delicate skin. Evelyn’s breath hitched and her fingers slid into his hair. He took his time releasing each of the small buttons on the front of her shirt, leaving a trail of kisses as he went.

A sharp arrow of pain speared through her head and she whimpered, fingers curling into fists. “Shh,” Blackwall murmured, moving up over her. “Focus on me,” he said, nuzzling the hollow below her ear. “Forget about the pain.”

“If it were that easy I’d have done it weeks ago,” she snarled at him.

His hand skimmed down her body, dipped beneath the waistband of her breaches and she sucked in a quick breath. “I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” His big hand cupped the heat of her.

Gritting her teeth, she curled her fists in the furs and tried to focus on Blackwall. It felt hopeless. Frustrated tears burned the backs of her eyes. “This isn’t… I’m not…” Sex was the last thing her body wanted.

“Are you telling me to stop?” Blackwall had gone still, the heat of his breath against her skin. She made a quiet sound, because she desperately wanted to feel something other than the pain, hear something other than the voice in her head telling her how worthless she was. “Tell me,” he rasped, then ducked his head and his lips curled around one nipple and he sucked.

The sudden pleasure amidst the constant pain had her arching up, desperate. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she begged softly. “Please, please, don’t stop.”

“I’ve got you,” he said against her skin and set to worshiping her breasts. He licked and nipped, sucked and laved, all the while that hand rested between her thighs, gently stroking.

Tender touches that for a time kept the pain at bay. Worshiped her with fingers, lips, tongue, and words. Evelyn begged and he gave her everything she asked for until she broke, back arching, sobbing, and for just a few moments, smiling as pleasure rolled through her.

“Better?” Blackwall asked, leaning on his elbow over her, as he carefully tugged the handkerchief from her eyes.

Evelyn squinted, but she nodded. “Had I realized that would work I’d have found you sooner.” He kissed, soft and slow and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tugging him close. “Maker, I have things to do, I don’t want to leave, but-” she let out a huff of breath.

“Should you need my services again, my lady,” he murmured against her ear and she made a quiet happy sound.

“Your _services_ will definitely be in order again for later.”

Blackwall watched her go and rubbed his hand over his jaw. He knew how wrong it was to be with her. He didn’t deserve her, and despite the agreement that there was no future for them, because there _couldn’t_ be any sort of future for them, he found himself feeling more for her than he had anyone else in a very long time.

 

“Is your head still bothering you?” Taashath asked, seeing Evelyn standing in the gardens, rubbing her temples.

“It’s fine,” she said, waving her off.

“Are you sure?” Something was wrong, Taashath thought.

“I’m fine!” she snapped, then let out a breath. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m… damn it, sorry. It was better, I thought, but… I was looking for you. Need to talk to you.”

Taasha made a mental note to make more of the tonic that she favored when it came to helping with pain. “Okay, what’s going on? Need something?” Their truce was tentative. They hadn’t spent much time together, but Evelyn truly seemed to be trying to be kinder, not just to her, but to everyone.

“No, I don’t need anything, it’s just that… I didn’t have anything to do with it, he just showed up.”

Brow furrowing, Taasha shook her head. “Who did? What are you talking about?”

“The dwarf… Cardon? No, Calbert? Fuck, I’m bad at names. Cabot. That’s it. There’s a tavern. He’s apparently running it.”

“Oh,” Taashath felt deflated. The tavern. She missed her tavern. What else could she do? Reaching up, she rubbed her hand against the center of her chest.

“I can tell him to leave,” Evelyn continued, but Taasha shook her head.

“No, don’t do that. It’s fine. It’s… I’m sure there are other things, I can help in the kitchens, or the garden,” she gestured around them with a shrug.

Evelyn peered up at her, not looking like she believed a word Taashath was saying. “Are you sure?”

No, she thought, but she wasn’t about to send someone away. “Yeah, of course, it’s fine. I… I need to go see about something, I’ll get you some more of that tonic for your head, alright?” Then she hurried away. It isn’t a big deal, Taashath tried to tell herself.

Making her way through the courtyard she spotted the new tavern and her throat felt tight and she felt ridiculous for it. Haven had been hers. The tavern was hers. Skyhold… Skyhold was a completely different story.

The abrupt numbness nearly had her toppling over. Taashath staggered, reached a hand out and gripped the edge of the stone wall. _Silence_. It hurt, but since she hadn’t been actively using her magic, it wasn’t the same pain as having the connection to the Fade ripped from her. She glanced around, but it was pointless. Templars were everywhere, milling about with other people. Training not far away with a group of Cullen’s soldiers.

Tears burned her eyes and she struggled to drag in a breath. If she could just get away, it would ease up, wouldn’t hurt so much. As suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone. _Just my imagination_ , she tried to tell herself, despite the fact that the sensation lingered. The Silence hadn’t been strong, either by design or because the Templar was weak from not using Lyrium. But that didn’t make sense, all the Templars were still being supplied. Unless they chose to stop taking it, like Cullen had, though few knew about that.

Cullen was busy with the soldiers, she knew, but she headed for his office anyways. Taashath looked around, wondering what she’d do now that she was there. She wanted to help, but the Silence left her feeling unsteady and she had no idea what she could do to help. There were a few books sitting on the edge of his desk and for a moment she thought of arranging them on the empty bookshelves. They wouldn’t even take up a quarter of one shelf. Rolling her eyes she fingered one, then her brows drew together and she moved it. A romance novel. Her romance novel. Battered cover and dog-eared pages. Where had he found it? How had he found it?

Taashath bit her lip, then eyed the ladder. It was probably the only place she’d be guaranteed peace. She climbed the ladder and sat down on the thin bedroll and drew her knees up as she leaned back against the wall and opened the book to read.

 

Cullen glanced around his office with a slight frown. No one had seen Taashath for hours. One soldier said she’d been in the courtyard, had looked ill, another saw her heading for his office. He’d looked everywhere, but hadn’t been able to find her. Parrot was obviously not pleased by her disappearance either, as the cat had come and found him.

Noting the stack of books had been moved his lips curled realizing that Taasha’s book was missing from the pile. He glanced toward the ladder, scratched the cat’s head. “Hold on,” he told him then headed up the ladder. Taashath lay, curled up on her side, one hand propping up her head while the other held the book. He watched her for a long moment, a strange sense of relief washing over him.

Cullen was a private person, valued his space and didn’t appreciate people invading it. Except for her.

Parrot leaped from his shoulders and launched himself at Taashath. “Oh,” she dropped the book and sat up, looking startled, but she smiled. “Sorry,” she said, glancing around. “I didn’t mean to… I was just trying to hide.”

“From me too?” he asked, willing to leave her if that’s what she wanted.

“No, never from you.” She held a hand out to him while she rubbed her nose against Parrot’s head.

“I heard about the tavern,” Cullen said, walking over to sit down beside her.

“Oh,” she seemed to slump in on herself.

Cullen slipped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into his side. “You have every right to be upset. I know how much you loved the tavern in Haven.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she sighed. “I was thinking of building something, some kind of stairs along the wall so that Parrot could come up here if he wanted. He couldn’t find you, so he came looking for me.”

“I’m sorry for...” she trailed off, gesturing to the room around them.

“You don’t have to apologize, Taasha. You are welcome to come and hide out here any time you want. Whether I am here or not.” She let out a quiet sigh and shifted closer, burrowing into his side, much as the cat did. “When I was trying to figure out where you’d gone, one of the soldiers said he saw you in the courtyard, that you’d looked ill. Everything alright?”

She went completely still beside him, then, after a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. “I’m fine,” she murmured.

“Taasha.”

“Really, Cullen,” she tilted her head back to look up at him. “I’m fine. It was nothing. I was just upset about the whole tavern thing.”

He looked at her, worry knitting his brow, and he hoped that was all it was. “Alright,” he said and the urge to press his lips to hers was nearly overwhelming. “If you say so.”


	29. Chapter 29

Taashath was struggling to find a place in Skyhold. Everything in Haven had been certain. She knew where she stood, but now… the kitchen was fully staffed, with more people seeming to pour in every day. The gardens well tended. So she helped here and there around Skyhold and in the village just outside the gates that was steadily beginning to grow. Evelyn had been gone for weeks already, leaving behind a very disgruntled Warden Blackwall.

Since she had little better to do, Taashath had enlisted him in teaching her how to carve the little statues out of wood once settled in and they were done for the day. They didn’t talk much, both content to quietly spend time together. She fussed over Cullen as usual, making sure he ate and chastising him when he obviously hadn’t slept.

Her muscles were sore and she fantasized about a warm bath, and a mug of the hot spiced wine. It was still early, so the baths wouldn’t be overly busy, but relaxing was out of the question. She’d swing by her rooms, heat up the small basin of water and be able to wipe off must of the days grime. Then what? Then nothing. Taashath had nowhere to be. She hated feeling so useless. Pushing open the door to her room she lit the candle that sat on the crate next to her door and froze.

She stared into the room, then stepped back out into the hallway, wondering if she’d stepped into the wrong room. But no, she’d unlocked the door. She looked at the key in her hand, then Taashath stepped back into her room and nearly wept. The bed was massive and took up nearly half the room. There was a tall-backed leather chair in the opposite corner with a small table beside it and behind it, a bookshelf. Jaw trembling, she reached for the piece of paper that sat on the foot of the bed.

_Your feet won’t hang off the edge._

_-C_

Pressing her fingers to her lips she quickly blinked back the tears. She was tempted to dive headfirst onto the bed and roll around on it, but it looked so nice, the blankets clean and pretty. No, she would definitely take a bath first. After she spoke with Cullen.

She found him outside in the training yard with the troops, he and Rylen were standing there, speaking quietly as they watched the soldiers sparring with a critical eye. “Knight-Captain,” she said inclining her head. “Commander.”

“Hello, lass,” Rylen said and she couldn’t help but smile. Rylen didn’t say much, but she enjoyed it when he did. The lilt in his voice was oh-so-pleasant to listen to.

“Taasha,” Cullen said.

“Do you have a moment, Commander?”

Cullen and Rylen exchanged a quick glance, and then Cullen nodded. “Of course,” he gestured with one hand, while the other slid to the small of her back as they turned and began walking about. “Is everything alright?” he asked, concern thick in his voice.

She still hadn’t told him about the episodes of Silence. Taashath truly wanted to believe it was her imagination. It had never been strong, nor had it lasted long. They usually resulted in a moment of unsteadiness and there were always witnesses. She knew that the soldiers were reporting it back to Cullen. “I was just in my quarters.”

“Were you?”

“I was,” she said with a nod and then she turned to look at him as they reached the stone stairway. “Cullen, how in the world did you-” she broke off, shook her head. “The Inquisition has bigger, more important priorities than me having a bed.”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do, you dolt. It’s beautiful. I was afraid to touch it and mess it up. But the Inquisition-”

Cullen reached up and gently grasped her face in his hands. “You have been working endless hours since we arrived in Skyhold, helping anyone and everyone. Don’t think I don’t know you’re working yourself to exhaustion.”

She covered his hands with her own and leaned into the touch. “But-”

“No, absolutely not. There will be no ‘buts.’ You more than deserve to have a little luxury.”

“Cullen,” her voice wavered and she wanted to argue, but instead she leaned down to press her forehead against his. “You’re so good to me.”

 

The anticipation of crawling into that bed, the first bed she’d ever had, made her stomach feel all fluttery. But she wanted to savor it. So, after leaving Cullen to return to his troops, she found Blackwall near the barn, chopping wood. When he was done, they sat near the fire and they spent a few hours honing her carving skills. Taashath thought she was a lost cause, convinced she didn’t have the dexterity to create the small details that Blackwall was so good at, but she still enjoyed the time.

After that, she all but dragged Cullen to the tavern. Taasha had to admit that Cabot did a good job. They sat down, shared a meal and Taasha finally got her mug of warm spiced wine. “How is the bed?” Cullen asked and she shook her head.

“I haven’t… I’m filthy from helping out in the village, I didn’t want to get the blankets dirty. I’m going to the bathhouse after this and then I’ll try it.”

Cullen laughed quietly. “You haven’t even sat on it?”

She shook her head and he smiled at the look of horror on her face. “The blankets are pristine. I will not mess them up. It’s my first bed, I want it to be… special. That’s silly, isn’t it?” she furrowed her brow as she stared down into her mug and Cullen felt guilty for having laughed.

“No, Taasha, darling. It isn’t silly.” In fact, it tugged at something deep inside him to see her so happy about something so inconsequential. It hadn’t taken much effort, and the eagerness of those he’d enlisted to help had been nearly overwhelming. “You have Cassandra to thank for the books on your shelf. The new ones anyway, I remembered some of your favorites.”

“My hero,” she said, a warm smile creasing her cheeks.

After they finished eating, Cullen stood up, moved around the table and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Go take your bath, and get some rest, alright?” He smoothed a hand down her hair and she tilted her head back to look up at him.

“I will,” she murmured. He left, and Taashath sat there for a little while longer, finishing her wine before heading for her quarters. She gathered the bag that held her soap and shampoo. The bathhouse was quiet and mostly empty due to the late hour, but still, she made her way down the corridor to the smaller, more private alcoves. Taasha sat on the edge of the tub while she waited for it to fill, then swirled her hand in it, using her magic to help heat the water.

Large basins of water were kept hot using a mix of coal and magic, but Taashath took comfort in the water being hotter. One of her little indulgences for herself. Saarebas had bathed quickly, in cold water. Taashath sunk into a tub of water nearly hot enough to burn and planned to stay there until her fingers wrinkled.

Listening to the sounds from the main room made her smile. A few children, bedtime holdouts splashed and giggled while parents chatted. Finally, the little ones were bundled out and the bathhouse fell silent. Taashath relished in it. She washed her hair and worked the soap into a lather as she rubbed it over her arms. She leaned forward, washed between her toes and up her calves over her knees and along her thighs.

Biting her lip she listened. It was silent, save for the soft sound of the fire that crackled keeping the rooms warm. Another indulgence. Taashath leaned back in the water again, letting her eyes slip shut as one hand stayed on her thigh, the other slowly glided up over her belly, fingertips dancing along her skin before cupping one breast. Pleasure had been utterly forbidden for a Saarebas and was something Taashath had never truly considered until reading a book that Leliana had given her. It wasn’t the tender romance that Cassandra favored. Instead, it was pure lust. It had made Taasha’s heart flutter in her chest and heat pool between her thighs.

The woman in the book had touched herself and Taashath lost count of how many times she’d read the graphic descriptions before she’d worked up the courage to touch herself. Now, it was something she took great pleasure in, not only as a tiny rebellion against the part of her brain that still thought of herself as Saarebas but also because it felt amazing.

Mentally she filed through all the smutty scenes she had read, but none of them fit her mood. She couldn’t imagine herself as any of those women. Usually small and lithe, great beauties who were doted on by the men who wanted nothing more than to protect them. At that thought, Cullen filled her mind and she jerked, yanking her hands from her body as she sat up quickly, eyes wide. Cullen wanted to protect her.

“No,” it was a raspy breath. It would be wrong to think of him like that. He was the most important person in her life, the best friend she’d ever had. She closed her eyes, clenching them tight as she tried to breathe. His crooked smile. The way his hands cupped her face, thumb tracing the scars around her lips and on her cheek. The heat of his lips on her throat and how the stubble on his cheeks and chin had scratched at the tender skin.

_Talon. He was thinking of Talon. Not you_. But what would it be like to have him look at her like that? Leaning back in the tub again, she let her eyes slip shut and nibbled at her lower lip, letting her hands slid back over her skin.

Fingertips teasing as they played along her core, parting her and spreading her slick. Circling her clit, her back arched and she squeezed her breast. _Thick fingers and a wide palm settling between her thighs. Teasing her opening, but not pushing in, not yet. Corded muscles of his forearm flexing as he rubbed his thumb against her clit. Breath on her neck, the scrape of stubble on her collar. “Darling. Darling.” Two fingers sliding in, stroking, pumping. “My darling, my Taasha.”_

“Yes, oh yes,” her breathing was ragged as she arched, her own fingers working herself faster, harder. _Lips on her nipple, teeth gently biting_. Taashath whimpered. “Cullen, Cullen, Cullen,” it was barely a breath of sound as she sped closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

_Lips shifting down the length of her body. Those fingers only letting up when lips and tongue replaced them._ The soft cry that escaped Taashath’s lips surprised her. But the sensations that surged through her felt too good to stop. She clamped a hand over her mouth as her hand continued to work between her thighs. “ _Darling_.” Taashath held her breath as her head slipped under the water when the bliss took her again.

Her lungs burned by the time she finally dragged herself out of the water, her entire body felt loose and lethargic. Taashath sat on the edge of the tub, her legs too weak to support her weight, and dried herself and dressed. Rubbing her hair with the towel she considered tracking down Cullen, bidding him to braid her hair, but she broke off the thought immediately and shame washed over her.

Clutching her belongings to her stomach, she hurried to her room with her head down and ducked inside, locking the door before lighting the candle. The bed looked so big and inviting but instead, she sunk down into the chair and drew her knees up to her chest. “Andraste, what have I done?” she breathed, trying to ignore the pleasure that still buzzed and pulsed between her thighs.


	30. Chapter 30

Cullen felt a strange restlessness as he lay on the simple bedroll in his loft. It was quiet. He could see the stars through the hole in the roof and a wash of calm flowed through him. But he couldn’t sleep. _Too quiet. You miss her_. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He’d gotten used to falling asleep with Taashath by his side. It had been months now since Haven and every night they had shared a bedroll.

She was probably sound asleep, sprawled across the massive bed. The image caused his lips to curve up into a smile. Taasha deserved the small luxury. Though he truly believed she deserved that and so much more.

Deciding that sleep was not in the cards for him, Cullen dressed and thought to go check on her. Just to make sure she was enjoying her bed, make sure there were no nightmares. He made his way to her room, fished the key from his pocket before letting himself in. A sliver of light filtered in from the hallway and his brow knit together seeing the bed empty, save for Parrot curled up in the exact center. It didn’t even look like she’d touched it. Concern built in his chest until finally, he spotted her, sitting, curled up in the chair, head resting on her knees, fast asleep.

Cullen stood there for a long moment, watching her. Must have fallen asleep reading, he thought stepping into the room. He closed the door and flipped the lock before crossing over to her. “Taasha, darling,” he spoke softly, one hand sliding over the back of her head, smoothing over her hair. Still damp from her bath.

She made a quiet sound, shifted. “What? Wait, what?”

“You fell asleep reading, come to bed.”

“Oh,” she blinked up at him, looking dazed. “I… I guess I did.” She looked around the room as if trying to figure out where she was.

“Bed,” Cullen whispered, taking her hand. He tugged her out of the chair and she padded behind him to the bed. Pulling down the blankets, he nudged her onto the mattress, then walked around to the other side of the bed and toed off his boots. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But he was already there, and Taasha looked so disoriented as she sat on the bed with her eyes closed.

Stretching out, he reached for her, dragging her into his arms and already he felt the pull of sleep. “But-” Taashath resisted and Cullen went still.

“Taasha?” he asked softly, concern heavy in his voice.

She turned her head looked at him, her golden eyes shining, then after a long silence. “It’s nothing. It was nothing.” Then she stretched out beside him, burrowing into his chest, and pressing her face against his throat. Cullen dragged the blankets up around them and wrapped his arms around her.

_You can’t keep doing this_ , was his last thought before the darkness claimed him.

 

When Cullen woke up, the room was still dark. He lay there for a moment, enjoying the feel of Taashath’s arm wrapped around him. She lay at his back, hand splayed over his chest, while her face was pressed against the back of his neck and he could feel each breath she took. He had no business enjoying the sensation as much as he did. Reaching up, he covered her hand with his and closed his eyes, just listening. He was beginning to contemplate having to get up. Things to do. Troops to train. Drills to run.

Taashath’s entire body went utterly still behind him. For a moment he wondered if it was a bad dream. “Taasha?” he murmured and the hand on his chest slowly curled into a fist.

“I-” her voice cracked and she tugged at her hand. Cullen resisted the urge to hold onto it, refuse to let her pull away, but he did and rolled over to face her. She sat up, holding the blankets against her chest.

“Taasha, what’s wrong?” he followed, sitting up beside her. He wanted to reach out to her, to wrap her in his arms, to comfort her, but he got the feeling she didn’t want him to. Had climbing into bed with her been the wrong thing to do? _Maker. Of course, it was_. “Taasha, darling, did I-”

A sob escaped her and she pressed her face to her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

Alarmed, Cullen moved to kneel in front her, he hesitated for a moment before reaching out to cup her face between his palms. “It was just a bad dream,” he told her, hoping that was all that was wrong.

“No, I-” she broke off, looked up at him and then pressed her face into his hand. “You’re right. It was… It was just a dream. I...” she looked around and let her fingers trace over the pattern of decorative stitches on the blanket and then Taashath let out a shaky laugh. “The real reason you got me a bed is out,” she said.

He stared at her for a long moment, worry a heavy ball in the pit of his stomach. She’d been so exhausted lately, doing so much trying to figure out where she fit in Skyhold, it worried him. His thumb rubbed along the scar on her cheek and he offered her a small smile. “You’ve figured me out, purely selfish reasons hidden behind doing something kind.” Cullen sat back on his haunches, fingers still on her cheek. “I couldn’t sleep. I suppose I’ve gotten used to having you by my side at night. It felt strange that you weren’t there.”

Taasha watched him for a moment, then clasped his hand in hers and tugged him back down onto the bed with her. He stretched out beside her and she turned onto her side, tucking her hands under her chin. “I think I’ve gotten used to it too,” she admitted. “I’m not sure I’ve ever slept so well as I did last night.”

Cullen smiled a little, resting his head on his arm, while the other rubbed along her arm. “I’m sure it was just the bed. That you nearly didn’t even sleep in.”

Her brow furrowed and she ducked her head down. Cullen frowned, fingers tucking under her chin to tip her face back up to look at him. “Hey, what’s wrong? Taasha, please, darling. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Nothing,” she sighed. “It really isn’t… it isn’t important.”

“Taasha.”

“I promise. The bed… it was overwhelming. All these kind things you’ve done and… and I’m not doing enough. I’m not pulling my weight here at Skyhold. In Haven I had the tavern, I fed the people and-”

“You’re joking, right? Taashath, Maker.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “You ridiculous woman. You may not have the Tavern, but you have done so much. You help in the village, you’ve helped build the new houses and you help in the garden. I know you help in the kitchens when they aren’t overrun with other staff. This bed was not some expense for the Inquisition, it was the people of Skyhold, the people from Haven who adore you, that helped bring it all together.” Her face crumpled and Cullen wrapped his arms around her. “I know you miss Haven, I know you lost so much. But you’ll never know how grateful I am that you made it out. I already lost you once. I couldn’t bear to lose you again.”

He lay with her, on the soft bed, holding her while she wept, for longer than he knew he should have. The sun was fully up, the hour grew later, but he couldn’t leave her like this. Cullen stroked his hand through her hair and murmured quiet reassurances each time her breath hitched and the tears began anew.

 

As they made their way up the final stretch to Skyhold, Evelyn knew, even if her horse sprouted wings and took flight, she couldn’t get there fast enough. They had been gone for nearly two and a half months, she ached for Skyhold.

_For Blackwall._

Reaching up, she curled her fingers around the locket she wore. It was a strange sensation, the missing, the longing. She’d been with other men since Alex had died, more than just a few. Sex had been an easy way to numb the loneliness.

_But Blackwall._

She hadn’t expected to feel anything for the man. Evelyn knew very well there was no hope of any sort of future with him. He was a Grey Warden and eventually he would have to leave. Just the thought left feeling a little weepy. She hated that she’d left him behind at Skyhold. _It was stupid_ , she told herself.

_No, he can’t. You know he can’t_. The adamant insistence that he could not come with her was so strong it caused a physical pain in her chest. She reached up and tried to rub away the ache. Once they reached the gates, Evelyn was barely even able to stay in the saddle. Would he be waiting for her? Did he even care?

Blackwall broke away from Cullen’s troops, who it appeared he’d been training with, as Evelyn and her companions entered Skyhold. His face was unreadable and her stomach twisted into knots. _He doesn’t care about you. Why would he care about you? You’re a bitch. A horrible person. No one likes you_.

She flinched, her grip tightening on the reigns. Evelyn quickly looked away from the man who was walking toward her and nudged her horse in the direction of the stables. Dismounting she passed her mount off to the Horse Master and turned intent on heading for the war room.

“My lady,” voice a low rumble that had heat pooling instantly in her belly. Blackwall was leaning against the wall of the barn, arms across his chest, eyes dark and watchful.

“Warden Blackwall,” why did her voice sound so breathless? “Would you accompany me for a moment, Ser Blackwall?” He raised a brow at her. “If you’re still… amenable, that is.” Evelyn turned on her heel and started walking. Up the stairs and through the side door near the kitchens. Evelyn was grateful that in the months she’d been gone they hadn’t seemed to have found a use for the big room beneath Skyhold. She knew it wouldn’t be long before they filled it up with something.

Heavy boots on the stone floor. She turned and he was there. Evelyn threw herself at him and he didn’t even stagger. Her legs wound around his waist and one of his big hands palmed her ass while the other fisted her hair. She crushed their mouths together, her own hands sliding into his hair, holding on as if he were the only thing tethering her to the world.

“My lady,” he said again when she broke the kiss gasping for air. His mouth slid along her neck, the scrape of his beard sending wicked bolts of pleasure through her.

“Now, now,” she panted. “I need you, Blackwall. I need you now.” It was a desperate plea and Evelyn knew it, but she didn’t care.

“I’ve got you, Evie.”

She nearly sobbed. “Please,” she managed to get out then she felt the cold stone wall at her back. They scraped, even through the heavy cotton jacket she wore but Evelyn couldn’t be bothered to care as Blackwall slid his hand between them and made quick work of the ties on her breeches. Then his hand was inside, his fingers easily finding her core.

“Maker,” he rasped against her ear. “You’re so wet already.” Then he plunged two fingers inside and his thumb found her clit. Embarrassment had her cheeks flushing with heat, but within moments the man had her teetering on the edge of bliss and the embarrassment was forgotten. “That’s it, Evie. Fuck, I can’t wait to sink into you. My fist just doesn’t compare.”

Back bowing, she cried out as the pleasure took her. She was still riding the high when she felt Blackwall’s cock slide home. Evelyn’s breath caught, she opened her eyes and met his gray gaze and finally, finally, for the first time in months, she felt as if everything was how it was supposed to be again.

Evelyn wouldn’t admit to anyone that the headaches still lingered, though she imagined they suspected. But they didn’t know how much worse they had gotten. That she had moments of such intense pain, she’d black out, though somehow, she still functioned. She went through the motions.

“I’ve got you, love,” Blackwall murmured, one hand going back to her hip, the other, again tangling in her hair. 

She slipped her fingers along his beard, tugged lightly and pulled his mouth down to hers. “Yes,” she breathed against his lips. “You’ve got me.”


	31. Chapter 31

Baths didn’t hold the same enjoyment for Taashath anymore. Her little indulgence left her stomach feeling queasy. She’d tried to tell Cullen, admit to what she’d done, but it was different than him walking in when she’d been pleasuring herself. It wasn’t as if he’d done the same while thinking of her. So Taashath had blamed the tears on still feeling the loss of Haven, it was true, but not wholly and it made it feel even worse.

_Just pretend it never happened. Just pretend like Cullen never saw you with your fingers between your thighs. Pretend like Cullen didn’t kiss you in a fever dream and whisper his former lover’s name. Just pretend._

She sat on the edge of one of the larger tubs, clean, dressed and running her comb through her hair while she thought over her conversation with Evelyn earlier that day.

 

“ _Here,” Taashath said, handing over the small carefully packed box._

_Evelyn frowned. “What is it?”_

“ _It took a little while to find the right ingredients and brew them up, but…” Taasha bit her lip. “It’s for your head.”_

_She just stared at it for a long time. “Oh,” she murmured._

_Suddenly Taashath wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing. “If you don’t want… I mean, you don’t have to take them. I’d just thought, it works wonders for cramps too it...” she trailed off, feeling a bit foolish. “I just wanted to help.”_

“ _You always want to help.” The words felt like a slap, Taashath almost flinched. “Sorry,” Evelyn closed her eyes. “That didn’t sound the way I meant it. I mean… you’re always so fucking helpful. I appreciate it, I do. I can’t remember the last time someone did something nice for me, for no reason. Unless you had an ulterior motive?”_

“ _No,” Taashath said with a shake of her head. “No motives. Maybe people would do nice things for you if you weren’t such a bitch all the time though.” Evelyn let out a bark of laughter and Taashath felt her cheeks flame. She hadn’t actually meant to say that, even if she had thought it plenty._

“ _Maybe you’re right, but then again, we both know that isn’t going to happen.” Evelyn’s mouth twisted up into a half smile. “Thank you, Taasha. Was it Blackwall that told you?”_

“ _Told me what? About your head? No, I was hoping to have it done before you left the last time, but it wasn’t ready. I’ve seen you rubbing your temples though since you’ve been back, so I thought it might still be useful. Speaking of Blackwall though, are the two of you...” Taashath pursed her lips. “Is everything okay?” Evelyn gave her a blank look. “Its none of my business, I know. Sorry. But he hates that you keep leaving him behind.”_

“ _You’re right, it isn’t any of your business,” Evelyn sniped. “But… I can’t. I can’t explain why, so don’t ask. But,” she reached up and rubbed the center of her chest. “He has to stay here. I need him to be here.”_

“ _He wants to protect you.”_

“ _I know and it kind of terrifies me. Knowing the lengths he’d go to to keep me safe. Will you just keep an eye on him, when I’m not here? He told me he was teaching you how to carve.”_

_Taashath laughed quietly. “Did he mention how terrible I am at it?”_

_Evelyn grinned. “He was kind. Kinder than I would have been. I saw your goat, or well, what Blackwall told me was a goat.”_

_Shrugging her shoulders, Taashath wiggled her fingers. “Not nimble. I can’t even braid my own hair.”_

“ _Then how did it get like that?” Evelyn gestured to the twin braids that draped over her shoulders and Taashath’s cheeks flushed. “We’ll be leaving for the Winter Palace soon, will you come?”_

_The words stunned Taashath. “What? Why?” She wasn’t a spy, she wasn’t a soldier._

“ _Because I asked.” Taasha shook her head. She couldn’t imagine going to a ball, the very idea of it made her heart pound in her chest. “It would be nice to have a friend there.”_

“ _You’re taking Cassandra, Vivienne, and The Iron Bull. Not to mention Josephine, Leliana and Cullen will all be there.”_

“ _They don’t like me,” Evelyn told her. “I don’t blame any of them. As you previously stated, I’m a bitch.”_

_Taasha bit her lip. “You could take Black-”_

“ _I can’t!” Evelyn hissed and Taasha saw tears in the woman’s eyes. “I told you I-”_

“ _Okay, okay. I’ll come.”_

Taashath had regretted agreeing the moment she’d done it, but how could she say no when Evelyn had looked so miserable? Then she a few hours later Josephine had called her to her office where she’d been measured and had swatches of fabric held against her skin, comparing different colors of fabric. It all left Taashath’s head spinning.

The sound of the door opening had Taashath glancing toward the entrance. A man walked in, one of the soldiers, he gave her a short nod before continuing past and heading for the back tubs. Finishing with her hair, Taashath tucked her comb into her bag and got up, gathering her things and ready to head back to her room.

Would Cullen come to her room tonight? He had the past few evenings, crawled into bed with her while saying that it was because her bed was much more comfortable than the hard floor in his loft.

The sudden and intense pain that coursed through her was unlike any she’d ever felt before. That always there connection to the Fade snapped and she knew, _Templar_. Heavy footfalls on stone and Taashath hit her knees, her belongings hitting the ground with a clatter. The soldier who had walked in stepped back into the room and she didn’t understand. “Why?” it was a strained whisper.

“I knew the Commander before,” the man said as he crouched down in front of Taashath. “Good man. Righteous. Good _Templar_. But then he started having these ideas about mages. How they might be actual people. Magic is the Maker’s punishment, and I won’t suffer a Mage to live. Qunari have it right, cutting out your tongues, sewing your mouths shut.” He reached up, touched a finger to the scars around her lips and Taasha wished she had her magic.

Cullen did it all the time, but it was a tender gesture. Not like this. “We’ve been watching you. The Commander’s Saarebas whore. He’ll be good again, once you’re gone and whatever magic you’ve been using on him is gone.”

“I’m not-” her voice cracked and whatever ability he was using stole the breath from her lungs.

He stood up, looked down at her and then used his foot against her shoulder to push her into the tub. Taashath would have cried if she could have as she stared unblinking up at the man. Her body was frozen, her lungs seized and she sunk down to the bottom of the tub. No one would know. They would just think she drown. She tried fighting against the trap she was in, fought with everything she had in her, but the Fade was untouchable and her limbs felt numb, almost as if she weren’t part of her body any longer.

 _I’m sorry Cullen, Andraste watch over him_. Taasha’s eyes slipped shut. Her lungs ached with the need to draw in air.

The snap of her connection to the Fade came so abruptly that she gasped, her mouth and lungs filling with water. Her eyes flew open and she couldn’t tell up from down. Someone plunged into the water beside her. Strong hands grabbed her, pulled. “Breathe, lass,” the voice was winded, but she recognized it. Rylen. He dragged her through the water to the steps and she tried to help, but she couldn’t quite get her limbs to work right.

Taashath coughed, gagged and threw up water. Tears poured from her cheeks and she started shaking. “Where-” she looked around, frantic. The Templar. Rylen was climbing out of the water, stalking across the room to where the man lay in a heap, blood oozing from his mouth and nose. “Is he-”

“Not yet,” Rylen ground out, grabbing the man’s shirt collar. He dragged him across the stone floor and dropped his unconscious body closer to where Taasha was struggling to get up the last few steps.

“You can’t-you can’t tell Cullen,” Taasha choked out, tilting her head back to look up at Rylen.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me, lass.”

“No,” she shook her head, vehemently. “He can’t know. He’ll blame himself. You know he will. He blames himself every time a Templar does anything to a Mage. As if he is solely responsible for their actions. Promise me!” Rylen was clenching his jaw, she could see the muscles ticking. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”

“Fine. I won’t tell him.” Rylen ground out.

Taasha pushed up to her feet, still unsteady, but she desperately wanted to be out of the bathhouse. “What are you going to do with him,” she asked, chin jerking toward the Templar.

“We are heading out to the Western Approach in a few days. I think I’ll push up our departure, he’ll be coming with me.”

 

“Permission to take Templar Morin to the Western Approach, Ser.”

Cullen frowned at Rylen. The man had shoved open the door to his office and wouldn’t look at him, there was a stiffness, and formality that wasn’t usually there, and he was dripping wet. “May I ask why?”

Rylen grit his teeth. “No, Ser.”

Curious. “And if I order you to tell me the reason you want to take this Templar out into the middle of the desert?” What had happened? The rigid anger had Cullen’s imagination going wild. What had this man done? Rylen was not one to overreact.

“I would appreciate if you didn’t, Ser, as the lass made me promise not to tell you.”

Lass? A Templar. Maker’s breath. Was this the Templar who had Silenced Taashath back in Haven? Had he tried something else? Why hadn’t she told him? “Where is this Templar now?”

“With all due respect, Ser. I’m not telling you.”

Cullen got to his feet, anger beginning to boil in his veins. “And why is that?”

Finally, Rylen met his gaze. “The soldiers and the scouts all like her. Oliver will be spending some time in the Approach as well.”

“And I should just allow for vigilante justice?”

“No one but a select few will ever know what really happened. I think that’s better than the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces beating a Templar to death.” Cullen’s hands curled into fists because that is exactly what he wanted to do. “You should check on the lass, she seemed a bit unsteady.”


	32. Chapter 32

“Go easy on the lass.” The last words Rylen spoke before leaving Cullen’s office echoed in his head as he calmly made his way along the rampart, down the stone stairs, and across the training field. He paused outside the doors leading down into the prison cells. Rylen wouldn’t stick the Templar down there. It would be the first place Cullen would have looked. Hands curled into fists, he thought of Templar Morin. A decent fighter, but he hadn’t stood out in any way.

_He’d stand out if I put his head on a pike_ , he thought, continuing on his walk. Down the long corridor, he found her door, slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. She sat on the center of her bed, using a towel to dry her hair. Wet clothes draped over the chest at the foot of her bed, and on the back of her chair. The bag containing her bath things sat on the floor, spilling out the contents.

A fresh wash a rage ran through him. Taashath looked at him, then cursed softly. “He told you.”

“Told me what, darling?” Cullen kept his voice a steady as he possibly could. He was certain he’d never felt quite so violent in his life. Rylen wasn’t going to stop him from meting out punishment.

She opened her mouth, snapped it shut and just looked at him. Cullen began pacing the room. Trying to calm himself. Yelling at her was not the solution. He watched from the corner of her eye as she set aside her towel and comb and crawled down the length of her bed. His body reacted unexpectedly with a flush of desire and his mind scrambled to catch up. “Cullen,” she murmured, hand reaching out. Soft fingers curled around his.

The urge to reach for her, to slide his fingers into her hair. To claim her mouth. He yanked his hand back and speared his fingers through his hair. “Rylen didn’t tell me anything. But coming into my office looking like Parrot after he fell in a bucket of water clued me in. Why didn’t you tell me,” not a question, but a harsh demand.

Taashath sighed and sat back, her hands in her lap. “Because I wanted to avoid this. It was fine, it wasn’t… it had only happened a few times, just in passing, I’d thought… I wanted to believe it was just my imagination. I knew you’d worry. You have so much to deal with already, and you’ve always watched out for me, protected me, I just wanted...” she trailed off, realized he hadn’t known about the other times.

“How. Many. Times.”

“Five or six?”

“Five or-” Half a dozen times. And she had kept it from him. “Tell me what happened.”

She shook her head a little. “No, Cullen, it doesn’t matter-”

“Doesn’t matter?!” Cullen exploded. He wanted to grab her and shake her. “You could have been killed! If it weren’t for Rylen, I imagine you’d be dead in the bottom of one of the baths right now.” Taashath wrapped her arms around herself and ducked her head. “But no, of course, it doesn’t matter. Who would care if you died? Certainly not the soldiers who always look out for you. Not Evelyn or her companions who have all taken a liking to you. Most definitely not myself. I already thought you were dead for six years, I can’t imagine why I would be bothered to care if you truly died this time.”

He watched a tear roll down her cheek and he knew he shouldn’t have yelled. Imagined half of Skyhold heard him. The image of her floating dead in the water. It made his chest feel as if it might split right open. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of her room, slamming the door behind him so hard he thought he might have heard it crack. Down the hall, people practically dove out of his way. Morin was going to pay and it would be bloody.

Down in the cells, he scared the guard, watching over the few petty criminals that sat in their cells. Rylen was his subordinate. He would not allow him to keep him from the man. “Commander,” Oliver said, looking every bit the boy he’d been when Cullen first met him.

“What?” he snarled.

“Rylen said to meet him out in the field.” A place not far from Skyhold, that Cullen had found useful for training. Rylen sat on a makeshift stool, two heavy shields and sturdy wooden swords laying on the grass beside him.

“You didn’t go easy on her, did you?” Rylen asked, pushing up to stand. Cullen grit his teeth. “She wanted to protect you.”

“How does me not knowing she was nearly killed protect me?” Cullen snapped.

“I didn’t say she was right. But the lass’ heart was in the right place.”

“Where is Morin.”  
  
Rylen made a quiet sound and then reached for one of the swords and shields. “Yeah, I’m not telling you that. People are already terrified of you right now as it is.”

“I will not allow-” Rylen shoved the weapons into Cullen’s hands before grabbing his own.

“Morin will pay for what he did. Tried to keep it a secret for now, so of course, every soldier, scout, and Templar knows exactly what happened. The message has been sent. The rules are clear. That sort of behavior, that kind of violence, won’t be tolerated. But you and I aren’t going back to Skyhold until you’ve worked out some of that anger.”

If it were anyone else, Cullen would have beat the man back into his place. But this was Rylen. Calm and collected. He gave a jerky nod. Cullen had no idea how long they were out there, but by the time Cullen landed on his back and finally yielded, he ached and they both bore more than just a scratch or two.

Cullen knew he needed to find Taasha, talk to her, calmly this time, but first, he wanted to clean up. The idea of going into the bathhouse though had his temper rising again, so he fetched a bucket, went to his quarters and cleaned up there. Cullen went to her room and knocked on the door, but got no reply. “Taasha,” he said quietly, resting his head against the door. He waited but didn’t hear anything inside, so he unlocked the door and peered in. She wasn’t there.

After checking her usually places in Skyhold, he hoped that maybe she’d gone out to help in the village like she often did. Not being able to find her made him anxious. He paced his office like a caged animal, all the while telling himself that she was fine. She had to be. Rylen had stopped the Templar who was tormenting her. He couldn’t lose her. He just couldn’t. Night fell, and she still wasn’t in her quarters. He walked across the rampart to the other tower and up to the top to find Leliana. “Have you seen Taashath?” he asked.

Leliana raised her brows at him. “Are you planning on yelling at her again?”

“Maker’s-” he broke off and threw his hands up in the air. “Does everyone know about that?” She shot him a look and he sighed. Of course, they did. “Do you know what happened? With the Templar who tried to kill her?”

“I had no idea, until after Rylen dragged the man out of the baths.”

For a moment, Cullen contemplated asking where Rylen had taken him. Leliana would know. But he needed to find Taasha. “Please, Leliana, you must know where she is.”

“In the barn.” Cullen swallowed. He knew most nights that was where Blackwall ended up, forgoing his quarters, in favor of the hayloft. “Blackwall is with Evelyn. I’m glad for that. She seems… more at peace, when he is around. The others wish she’d take him with her when they traveled.”

Cullen heard the words but paid them little mind. Taashath was avoiding him. He didn’t blame her. But still, he needed to see her with his own eyes. “Thank you, Leliana,” he said before jogging down the stairs. The barn was dark, but enough moonlight slipped through the cracks that he could see enough to make his way up the stairs. He found her, curled up on a fur on several bales of hay, threadbare blanket tugged up around her, sound asleep.

Quiet as he could, Cullen crossed to where she lay and sat down on the edge of the bale. She was safe. She was alive. His chest ached and absently he reached up to rub a hand over it. “I am sorry, darling,” he murmured, a finger gently tracing along her cheek. “But… Andraste preserve me, I can’t lose you. I can’t-” he broke off.

_And why is that?_

The voice that had been quiet for some time spoke up.

“I should have seen it sooner. Should have realized. Maybe I did, but ignored it because...” Leaning down, Cullen pressed his lips ever so lightly to her temple. “I love you,” he murmured and the rightness of it made it feel like everything fell into place. “I’m a fool,” he breathed. He wanted to kiss her awake, profess his love and worship her. But they would have to talk first. She’d understand, wouldn’t she? Why he’d been so angry that he could have lost her? By the Maker, he hoped so.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: Forgot to include the link to the image of the dress! 
> 
> [Skirt and colors](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/759630662126169124/)  
>  [Bodice](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/759630662126166600/)  
>  [My own attempt to sketch it out sort of](https://andaran-atish-an.tumblr.com/post/181386638248/finally-resized-the-shit-out-of-it-and-managed-to/)

Blackwall made a quiet sound, somewhere between a protest and begging for more. His body ached, though pleasantly, it ached. Evelyn had scarcely left his side since returning to Skyhold. She had staked a claim on his body, bordering desperation. His back was marred with scratches from her short nails, and she bore the marks of his beard on her thighs, her breasts, her throat. “Maker’s balls,” he rasped, fingers tangling in her hair as her mouth nuzzled the sensitive crease where thigh met groin. “You’re going to kill me, love.”

Evelyn jerked back, staring up at him from where she knelt looking truly miserable. “It was a joke, Evie,” Blackwall told her, his brow furrowing with worry. He reached for her, but she sat back on her haunches. Naked and beautiful, she bore all the scars of her life with a sense of pride. Stretchmarks from the child she never spoke of, though she’d wept when he kissed them so reverently.

“I will though,” she murmured, voice somber. “I-I’m not nice. I’m not good. You should run while you still can.” Her voice broke, and he reached for her again, this time, she didn’t resist. He tugged her up the length of his body and held her in his lap. Her small form nestling perfectly against his chest.

“Evie,” he murmured against her hair.

“You don’t-” she swallowed, shaking her head. “You don’t understand. I’ve… I don’t… Something is wrong with me.”

“There isn’t-” he started, trying to reassure her, but she cut him off.

“The headaches are worse. I keep blacking out. I’ve done things I have no memory of.”

“Evie,” he tried to soothe her, one hand gently smoothing her hair back from her face while his other arm wrapped around her, holding her tightly. “I’m here, I’m listening, tell me what happened, love.”

“You shouldn’t call me that.” She shifted in his lap, straddling his thighs, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “I don’t want you to hate me. The others do, they all do. But you… I couldn’t bear it if you hated me.”

Blackwall took her face between his hands and forced her to meet his gaze. “Nothing you could do would ever make me hate you,” her said earnest in the declaration.

“Them choosing to make me Inquisitor was a mistake, and you, oh Andraste, you,” Evelyn shook her head. “With you is the only time I feel… like I have control myself. The headache is excruciating and I constantly feel like I’m battling my own mind… but with you...” She pressed her hand to his cheek.

They had agreed that what was between them was nothing more than a tryst. That was all it could be, because of who they were. Tangling his hand in her hair, he tugged her head back. But somewhere along the line, he’d gone and fallen for her. “Let me accompany you to the Winter Palace.”

“No!” she gasped it out. “I can’t, you don’t understand, you can’t be there.”

For a moment, he wondered, did she know? Had she figured out the truth somehow? “Why not?”

Evelyn opened her mouth, snapped it shut and her brow furrowed. “I just...I need you to be here.”

“Evie,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Don’t ask again,” she said, this time her voice the one of the Inquisitor. She slid a hand between them, curled it around his cock, still half hard from her earlier ministrations, but before she could do anything, he caught her wrists, flipped her onto her stomach and fit himself against her back. “What are you-” she broke off when his one hand pinned her wrists to the bed over her head, and the other came down hard on the curve of her ass.

She yelped, then made a half-hearted attempt to squirm away, but he easily overpowered her. “Evie, love,” his voice was a rasp against her ear and she stilled.

“I hate you,” she choked out around the sudden emotion clogging her throat.

Blackwall made a quiet sound, lips grazing the curve of her neck. “Maybe, but you love my cock.” He took himself in hand and rubbed it along her wet core.

“Fuck,” she moaned, trying to push her hips back, to get him to slip inside. “Fuck me, please,” Evelyn begged, shamelessly.

“Tell me why you keep leaving me behind.” Her entire body stilled, he wasn’t even sure she was breathing. “Tell me,” he murmured.

Time stretched out. Seconds seemed to last hours. “You’ll die,” she finally murmured, and before he could respond or protest she continued. “You’ll fight by my side, and you’ll die and it will be my fault. I can’t-” she broke off. “I need to know that you’re here, that you’re safe.”

“Evelyn,” Blackwall sighed, gentling his hold, but not releasing her. “If I die, then it is my duty. I told you I would fight at your side. If I fall protecting you, then it is the Maker’s will.”

“No!” she all but shouted. “Please, Blackwall, please. Just-”

There was a long silence, Evelyn’s ragged breathing the only sound in the quiet room. “For now, I’ll let it go. But this isn’t over, Evie, love.”

 

The dress that hung from the armoire in the extravagant room was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Swaths of silk and lace the palest gold matched with a rich purple. Tiny beads and pearls adorned the bodice and trailed down onto the full skirt.

And she was supposed to wear it. When she had been brought to her room, she’d immediately protested, informing the servant there had to be some mistake. But the elven servant had insisted this was her room, and that dress was for her. Taasha had thrown open the door, intent on searching out Leliana, Josephine or Evelyn, because one of them would know what was truly going on because that dress most certainly was not for her.

But she’d frozen, catching sight of Cullen at the far end of the hallway, stepping out of his own room. She was a coward because she’d closed the door as quietly as she could, slid the lock home and slid down it to sit on the floor with her knees against her chest.

It was childish, she knew that, hiding from Cullen. But he had yelled at her. No one had ever yelled at her. In the Qun, words were harsh, cruel at times, but she’d never flinched away from them. Cullen’s impassioned shouting had sliced deep into her soul and left her bleeding and aching. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and sucked in a deep breath, unwilling to cry again. It felt as if that was all she’d done since he’d slammed the door to her room and left.

She stayed sitting there, until there was a soft knock, a voice claiming they had brought the tub. Stunned, Taashath stood up, opened the door and watched in near horror as a handful of elven men brought in the tub, followed closely by several women with steaming buckets of water. “This can’t be- you’re in the wrong room,” Taasha insisted, but was ignored.

The door opened again with a soft knock a little while later and Leliana poked her head in. “There you are!” Taasha exclaimed. “Tell them they have the wrong room.” The tub was nearly full, one more round of the women and their buckets and it would nearly be brimming.

“They don’t,” Leliana told her with a slight shake of her head. Then she seemed to focus in on the dress. “Oh, Josie picked the perfect one!” She practically flew across the room to where the dress hung. “But where are the- Oh!”

Taashath hadn’t even noticed the shoes that sat on the floor beside the dress, too obscured by the obscene skirt. All she cared about was the heel on them. Moderate, at least. Though gaudy. Purple the same shade as on the dress, the delicate beading done in the pale gold. Pretty, for someone else's feet. “I can’t wear that!” Taashath hissed quietly, gesturing to the dress.

Leliana blinked up at her. “Why ever not? Josie made sure the heel was low since you aren’t accustomed to the tall heels that some wear.”

Shaking her head, Taashath pointed at the dress. “That,” she said. “You can’t possibly mean for me to wear that!” She regretted agreeing to come even more now as she stared at it and felt tears burning her eyes.

“Of course, why not? What’s wrong with it? I think the colors will go beautifully against your skin.”

“I can’t-” How could she possibly explain it? “That dress isn’t for...” _someone like me_.

Leliana set aside the shoe and then waved out the servants. “She can bathe herself, come back later.” Then she turned and looked at Taashath who had wrapped her arms around her waist and ducked her head down low. “Evelyn wanted you to have the dress. I have my own apprehensions about you being here, you know that. It is dangerous, but you know that, and I know that Josephine already gave you lessons on everything you could possibly need to know. You’re just here to … enjoy it. You aren’t a part of the mystery or the intrigue and I very much hope you don’t partake in any murder.”

Taashath let out a quiet snort of laughter and shook her head. “Well, I can’t make any promises. You know me.”

“You can stay here,” Leliana told her, voice low. “You do not need to attend the ball if you don’t want to.”

Letting her eyes drift back to the dress, to the beautiful creation that she was not worthy of wearing. This was the only chance she would ever have to wear something of its like. “No,” she murmured. “I promised Evelyn I would be there… I’ll go.”

Leliana left and before Taashath could even finish bathing, the elven servants had returned. She tried to protest, but they wouldn’t hear it. Orders were orders, they told her. So she closed her eyes and tried to ignore them, tried to pretend she wasn’t there as they took over washing her hair and bathing her. Out of the tub, they rubbed sweet scented oil into her skin and Taasha nearly bit a hole in her tongue trying to stay still.

Taasha realized that most likely this was common among the rich women in Orlais, having servants do everything, but all she wanted was to run away, flee from the room and find a dark corner to hide in. They dressed her, a corset that bound tight around her center and made it hard to breathe. Silky pale gold stockings that were held up but a garter of the same color. Finally, she was put in the dress and they made a few final touches before leaving the room.

She couldn’t breathe. It was all too much. Taasha was trembling and she was tempted to bar the door, to shove the heavy armoire in front of it now that the room was empty. Catching sight of movement she froze, then after a beat realized it was her own reflection. Slow and careful, she made her way closer to the massive gilded mirror. “That isn’t me,” she whispered because she was certain that was all she could do with as constricted as her lungs were. But it was. Dark purple kohl ringed her eyes, making the gold stand out even more. Her hair had been curled with a hot metal rod, pinned up and adorned with beads that matched the dress.

Leliana had been right, the colors of the dress did look amazing against her skin. But she felt like a fraud. Everyone in the palace would know it. A mistake. Agreeing to attend was a mistake. There was a knock at the door and still entranced by her own reflection, she didn’t react. It opened and she saw Evelyn appear behind her. “Wow,” Evelyn breathed out.

“I look like a fool,” Taasha said, wanting to press her hand to her stomach, but she was terrified of ruining the dress.

“You look stunning,” Evelyn told her. “Come on, they’re waiting downstairs, we need to go.”

“Wait! Why am I wearing this, and you’re wearing that!” Taasha whirled around, taking in the simple red coat and black trousers.

Evelyn flashed a rare smile. “Because you deserve this.”

 

Cullen had refrained from pacing, but only just. He was less than thrilled with the entire situation, but the fact that Taashath was there made his worry increase tenfold. But his protests had fallen on deaf ears. He saw movement at the top of the stairs and then he saw her. He couldn’t breathe. Blood rushed in his ears and by the Maker, he had never seen anyone so beautiful.

“Your mouth is hanging open, Commander,” Cassandra murmured and he snapped it shut.

Taasha made her way down the stairs, unsteadily, with Evelyn at her side and his heart clenched in his chest when she met his gaze, then immediately looked away. She’d been avoiding him since he’d yelled at her. Never giving him the chance to talk to her, to explain. He couldn’t blame her, really, but if he could only just get her alone for a few minutes, he could confess everything and she would forgive him, wouldn’t she?

He watched her as she continued down to the carriages, and despite the soft smile as she was helped into one, he could see the tension, the worry. She was terrified and he imagined the Winter Palace was the last place she wanted to be at that moment. Cullen silently cursed as he climbed into the other carriage. If anyone so much as looked at her wrong, he very well may kill them with his bare hands.


	34. Chapter 34

Cullen kept an eye on Taashath as the evening progressed. Ready to intervene at a moments notice, though he wasn't’ exactly sure what he would actually do. Act as some sort of distraction? She wasn’t comfortable, not in the dress, not with the people. The only time he saw a genuine smile was when she was chatting with Josephine’s sister. The two had danced together, but Cullen saw Taasha’s regret when she suddenly had a line of suitors all wanting a chance to dance with her.

He heard the whispers, imagined she had as well.

_The Inquisitor’s pet._

_Ox-woman._

_Beast_.

Comments grew more vulgar as the night progressed and the wine flowed.

_A shame she only has the one horn. I’d like to grab hold and see what wicked things a Saarebas’ mouth can do. She does still have her tongue after all._

If only he had his sword. What was a little more bloodshed? Certainly, he could borrow Cassandra’s, or even Evelyn’s. He realized he wasn’t the only one who had heard the whispers when Leliana sidled up to him. “I’ve made note of every single one of them,” she murmured, smiling genially for the crowd. “Josie will destroy them.”

Then she was gone and Cullen was granted a modicum of peace. It was the game, he understood, but he hated it. Orlesian’s disgusted him. The way they looked at Taasha, with a mix of distaste and lust made him want to sweep her away and take her someplace safe.

Hours passed, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Finally, though, things seemed to be winding down. Cullen slipped through the doorway, closing it behind him. He hoped that Taashath was still there. He’d spotted her sneaking into the room some time ago, but hadn’t seen her leave, though he’d been distracted multiple times.

“Let _go_ of me!” Hissed low, panicked.

“Absolutely not! I paid for you! A deal is a deal, you’re mine.”

Cullen was moving the moment he heard the distress in Taasha’s voice. Though he kept to the shadows and stayed as quiet as he could. An Orlesian man stood there, mask obscuring his face, one hand curled around Taasha’s forearm. Not for the first time that night, Cullen regretted not having his sword on him. He would run this man through without a second thought.

“Let me go!” Taasha twisted her arm, yanked, managed to get free, but he caught the other wrist.

“Get your hands off her,” Cullen ground out between clenched teeth as he advanced on the man.

The Orlesian tried to protest again, sputtering something about having won the auction. Cullen had no desire to hear another word of it. Evelyn had done her duties. Celene was dead, and Brialla and Gaspard now were heeding the command of the Inquisition. He drew his arm back and punched the man in the jaw. The Orlesian gasped, sputtered through the blood dripping from his lips. “Leave. Now.”

Cullen wanted to follow him, to finish what he’d started and end the man's life for daring to lay an unwanted hand on Taasha, but he heard her ragged gasping behind him and turned quickly. “Taasha, darling,” he held his hands up, palms out as he moved toward her.

Her pupils were huge, the black nearly completely obscuring the gold. “I can’t breathe,” she pressed a hand to her chest, then tugged at the bodice of her gown. “Cullen,” her voice broke. “I can’t-”

“You’re okay,” he said, quickly stepping close to her. “I’ve got you, darling,” he turned her and guided her hands to rest on the balustrade then made quick work of tugging lose the lacings of her bodice then the corset beneath. “I’ve got you. He’s gone, Taasha. You’re safe.” A broken sound escaped her and Cullen stepped closer behind, one arm curling around her waist to splay his hand over her stomach, while the other covered one hand on the stone wall. “I’ve got you,” he repeated, his breath warm against the bare skin of her shoulder.

Taashath moved her hand to rest on top of his on her stomach. “Take slow breaths, darling.” Her breath hitched and a sob broke free. “It’s okay,” he murmured again, his lips brushing against the back of her shoulder. “You’re safe.” Cullen closed his eyes and tried to ignore the rage he felt. Taasha was more important. “Breathe with me, darling. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” The full skirt hindered him as he tried to haul her closer. “Listen to me,” he said quietly, feeling her trembling, her breathing still unsteady. “Taasha, my darling, listen.” He drew in a slow breath, making sure it was audible, then let it out just as slowly. “With me, love. Breathe with me.”

Her quiet sobbing and struggled breathing broke his heart. He held her, murmured gentle words and tried to reassure her. When she finally could breathe relatively normal again, he shed his coat and slid it around her shoulders to conceal the open back of her dress. No way was he going to lace that thing back up. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said and she didn’t protest. In fact, there was very little reaction from her and that worried him. The carriage ride was spent in silence and Cullen led her inside the house that Josephine had procured for them, then bypassed her room and headed for his own.

When the door clicked shut she seemed to come back to herself a bit. “What? This isn’t-” she shook her head, glancing around.

“Do you truly want to stay alone in your room tonight?” he asked and she ducked her head, arms wrapping around her waist.

“You’re still angry with me,” Taasha murmured and Cullen sighed.

“Taasha, my darling,” he breathed and knew he couldn’t confess his feelings to her, not right now. Not when she felt so unsteady. He’d wait until they returned to Skyhold. When she felt safe again. “Why don’t you change out of that dress and then we’ll talk, alright?”

She nodded and after a moment, stepped behind the large screen that divided the room. There was a long silence, while Cullen went through his own clothes and found a tunic for her to wear, then she made a quiet sound, full of distress. “Taasha? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t- I can’t get it off,” it was almost a sob.

He hadn’t considered that. “I’ll call for the servants.” He would have gotten Leliana or any of the other ladies who had accompanied them, but they were all still at the Winter Palace.

“No, please, no- just-”

She sounded so broken, that it tore at his heart. “Can I help you then?”

“Please.”

Cullen stepped around the screen, found her with her shoulders slumped forward, head hanging down, the dress still bound tight at her hips. “Alright,” he murmured. Deft fingers made quick work of the lacing down the back of the dress, then he took her hand and helped her step out of the pools of fabric. “I’m not angry with you, Taasha,” he kept his voice low as he spoke. “I was angry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I am so very sorry for that.” His fingertips grazed her spine before he began working on unlacing the corset all the way. “I don’t think you realize just how much you mean to me, darling.”

Tossing the corset aside, he turned back to her, now naked from the waist up, he stared at the indents and marks on her back from the corset and dress. Cullen wanted to smooth them away, kiss each and everyone one of them. “If anything had happened to you- I just don’t understand why you kept it from me. Why didn’t you tell me that there was a Templar harassing you.”

She made a quiet sound, her arms coming up to cross over her chest as he sunk down to his knees behind her, his fingers slid along the garter belt, released the small snaps that held the silk stockings up. For a moment he was utterly distracted. Taste. Touch. He wanted to keep them. The image of her wearing nothing but the belt and stockings, her legs around his waist filled his mind and he closed his eyes as blood rushed to his cock.

“You already have so much on your plate, so many other people to worry about and see to. I didn’t want to add to it.”

He stayed silent as he dragged the stockings down her legs, first one then the other. Then he tossed aside the garter belt and all she wore now were her smalls. If only, Maker, if only. He’d kiss her, worship every inch of her. Would she let him? Cullen shook away the thought and grabbed his shirt before handing it to her. She tugged it on over her head and then finally turned to face him.

Her makeup had run in dark streaks down her cheeks and Cullen wanted nothing more than to take care of her. So he would. He’d show her how much he loved her like this, for now. “Darling,” he said quietly and took her hand before leading her over to the chaise lounge. There was a pitcher of cold water and he grabbed it and one of the delicate cloths. “Warm this?” he asked, holding the pitcher out for her.

Taasha’s brow furrowed for a moment before she dipped her fingers into it. After just a few seconds, Cullen felt the warmth of the water through the porcelain. He set the pitcher on the table, dipped the cloth in and rung it out before cupping Taasha’s chin with one hand.

His mind suddenly went back to the cave, all those years ago. Holding her chin just so as he’d carefully cut free the cord that sealed her mouth shut. “Let me worry, please, Taasha. Don’t keep that sort of thing from me.” He wiped at the makeup and her vibrant gold eyes watched his every move. “I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if I’d lost you. You are-” the love of my life. My heart. My soul. “I already lost you once, darling. I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”

Tears filled her eyes and she reached up, catching his hands with her own before pressing a kiss to each palm. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Cullen murmured back in mock threat before kissing her forehead. “Come to bed, darling.” He tossed aside the cloth and then took her hands in his and led her to the massive bed. It was bigger than the one in her room back in Skyhold. Dousing the light, Cullen pulled her into his arms, her cheek against his chest. “Do you want to tell me what happened earlier?” he asked gently, one hand stroking through her hair, the fingers laced together as it rested on his chest.

“No,” she murmured, rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his tunic, then sighed. “I am still not entirely sure what it was about. He kept going on about an auction. How he’d bid all this gold for me. To have me. To take me… take me home with him.”

The rage came back full force. “I’ll see that we get to the bottom of it. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” she murmured. “Just grabbed my arms.”

After a moment, Cullen pressed his lips to her forehead. “Why didn’t you use your magic?”

Taasha tilted her face up to his, and even in the dark of the room, he saw the worry there. “I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

Cullen wanted to shake her. “Andraste preserve me,” he breathed. “Taasha, love. _Fight back_. Always fight back. Fight first and apologize later if it is warranted. Never, ever go quietly.” He shifted, rolling onto his side, weight braced on his elbow, hand cupping her cheek. “Do you hear me?”

“Josephine and Leliana warned me about how all of this was so important. I didn’t want to mess something up.”

“No,” it was nearly a growl. “You listen to me, Taasha. I don’t care how important something is. I don’t care if you were to cause a scene in front of the Queen of Ferelden and light everything on fire. Never, ever let anyone force you to do something you don’t want to.” His thumb rubbed across the scars on her cheek. “Besides, I’m sure had you lit that man on fire and he’d run screaming into the ballroom, all the Orlesian’s would have clapped and complimented you on such a good show.”

The sound she made was almost a laugh and it loosened a tightness in his chest. “Promise me, darling. You’ll never go quietly.”

“I promise,” she murmured, nuzzling her face against his bicep.

He wanted to lower his head, to brush his lips against hers. To kiss her and take her away from the all the horrible things she’d been through. Instead, Cullen kissed her forehead, settled back down beside her, and held her tightly.


	35. Chapter 35

The ballroom at the Winter Palace was empty, but Cullen could hear the music playing. How had he gotten there? Looking around he tried to figure out why he was there and where everyone else was. How could there be music if there was no band?

A soft swish of fabric had him whirling around and he went still. Taasha stood before him, in the horribly over the top gown, looking radiant as ever. “Maker’s breath, darling,” he whispered and her lips curved up into a slight smile.

“Dance with me, Commander?” she asked, extending a hand out to him and how could he refuse her? He’d refuse her absolutely nothing, ever.

“Of course, my love.” He took her hand, brought it up to press a kiss to her knuckles, then stepped closer, well as close as the voluminous skirts would allow, and rested a hand on her hip. They fell into an easy rhythm, as they spun and swayed across the entire floor. “I never got the opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are,” he said, looking up at her.

It was a dream, Cullen was well aware. A fantasy in which Taasha was happy and there were no Orlesians to spoil their evening. He wanted it to be real. His chest was bursting with the desire to tell her everything. “I was a fool for not seeing it sooner,” he confessed.

“Seeing what?”

Cullen gazed up at her, taking in all the details of her face. The scar on the right side of her face a horrific reminder of what torment she’d been through, but it had never broken her. The scars around her lips that had silenced her for years. “That you are my heart.”

Taashath’s lips curved into a smile. “And you are mine, Kadan.” His throat felt tight. _It_ _is a_ _dream_ , he reminded himself. But he hoped her response would be the same. It would be new to her, wouldn’t it? She had never spoken of any relationships in the six years they had been apart. Would she accept him and want his love?

Blinking, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark of the room. It was still late. Taashath lay in his arms, curled up against his side. Her breathing slow and even. He shifted, propping himself up on his arm so he could look down at her. She made a quiet sound of protest in her sleep as he moved, but he ducked his head, kissed her forehead, his free hand stroking her cheek. “I love you,” he murmured. “I adore you.”

He had loved Talon Surana. It had been young love. Reckless, selfish, and in the end, cruel on his part. But comparing what he’d felt for Talon to what he felt for Taasha was night and day. To him, the most important thing in the world was Taasha’s happiness, to see her joy, and he wanted to do everything in his power to make her smile every day for the rest of their lives.

Cullen had never thought of a future for himself. So young he’d devoted himself to the Templars and he’d believed that was all he’d ever be. That was all he’d believed he would need in his life. But Taasha had changed everything. From the moment he found her crouched behind a crate, the flash of a gold eye behind a mask, bound and chained and terrified.

If he’d been an obedient Templar, killed her in the streets as his vows demanded of him? Bile burned his throat at just the thought. He traced a finger along the pale scars around her lips. She’d been so trusting and it had angered him then, knowing that another Templar likely would have killed her, or used her, hurt her.

He thought of the Templar who had nearly killed her at Skyhold.

The Orlesian who’d put his hands on her.

_Never again._

_Never._ “I love you,” he breathed.

The sun was just beginning to rise when there was a knock at his door. Then again before he’d even managed to extricate himself from Taasha and the bed. He hurried across the room, to answer the insistent knocking, hoping Taasha wouldn’t wake. He tugged open the door and Evelyn stood there, looking up at him.

“Have you seen Taashath? She isn’t in her quarters and no one has seen her!” There was a frantic quality to her voice and Cullen frowned before taking a step to the side and glancing over his shoulder.

Taasha slept, sprawled out on her belly, head pillowed under her arms.

“Oh,” it was a breath from Evelyn. “Well, thank the Maker. I’ll let the others know.” She turned to leave, but stopped, and looked back at him. “We’ll be leaving for the Shrine of Dumat this afternoon, I was hoping you would accompany us, Commander.”

His brow furrowed, both in confusion and annoyance. It was unfair of him. He wanted nothing more than to take Taasha back to Skyhold, confess his love, and spend the next several weeks worshiping her. He shook the thought from his head. They were involved in a war. He didn’t have that luxury. “Of course, Inquisitor.”

“Good,” she inclined her head and then left and Cullen turned back to the bed.

Taasha had woken up, she sat up blankets pooling around her waist, hair a disheveled mess. They hadn’t bothered to undo the pins and pearls in her hair the night before. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Every single day, he wanted to wake like this. With her in his bed. No, _their_ bed. Cullen crossed back to the bed, picking up the coin that sat on the nightstand. He curled his fist around it before sitting on the bed beside her. “Take this for me,” he said, holding it out to her.

Taasha’s brow knit and she looked down, taking the coin into her hand. “Alright,” she said, then shook her head. “Why?”

“The Inquisitor just asked that I join her at the Shrine of Dumat, so I won’t be returning to Skyhold with you straight away.”

“Oh,” she frowned, still staring at the coin, then she looked up at him. “Why?”

“I’m not sure, but, she is the Inquisitor.” He cupped her cheek and let his thumb trace her lower lip.

“You’ll stay safe?” she asked.

“Of course, darling.”

“Why the coin?” Taashath held it up between them.

“The day I left to join the Templars, my brother gave it to me. We were meant to forsake all our worldly possessions, but that coin I kept. Carried it in my pocket every day. In Kinloch Hold, in Kirkwall. To Haven and Skyhold. It’s silly to think it had any power, any worth. But I want you to carry it.”

Taashath met his gaze. “I couldn’t- Cullen.”

He covered her hand with his, holding the coin between their palms. It was cool but slowly began to warm from the heat of their skin. “Please, darling.”

“But if you’re going into battle, you should-”

Cullen lifted his free hand up to her face again, thumb pressing against her lips. Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her. His mind insisted. “My darling, Taasha. Please, for me. Carry it for me. When I return to Skyhold I’ll explain. Just promise that you’ll carry it until then.” His thumb was still against her lips, soft and full and, Andraste preserve him, he wanted so desperately to kiss her. She nodded her head a little and Cullen leaned in, pressed his forehead to hers. “Thank you, darling.” _My love. My heart_.

 

Taashath sat in her room, having finished packing up her few belongings. The dress hung, a little worse for wear on the armoire again. Wrinkled and creased from spending a night on the floor, but still beautiful. A shame, she thought, she’d never have cause to wear something so lovely again. A shame the night had ended so wretchedly.

But no, it hadn’t. Cullen had been there, as he always was. She held the coin in her hand, confused as to why he wanted her to carry it. But she would. It was unremarkable. The simple coin bearing the face of Andraste, worn to a bright finish. She imagined Cullen thumbing it in his pocket. Thumb rubbing it over and over. What was it that he wanted to tell her?

There was a knock on her door and her heart leaped strangely in her chest. “Come in,” she called, hoping it would be Cullen.

Evelyn stepped into the room and Taasha quickly schooled her features so as not to outright display her disappointment. “I heard you had quite the evening last night,” Evelyn said after she closed the door behind her. “What happened with the Orlesian?”

Taasha’s cheeks flamed and she ducked her head, tucking the coin into her pocket. “Nothing, I don’t know. I have no idea who the man was. He approached me and kept insisting he’d won some sort of auction and I was the prize.”

“Hmm,” Evelyn hummed quietly, wandering the room, she paused in front of the dress. “He’s dead. They found his body this morning stuffed into some corner of a closed-off room in the Winter Palace.”

Her heart kicked in her chest and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. “I didn’t-”

“No, I know you didn’t do it. He was run through with a sword. I imagine you would have lit him on fire.” Evelyn reached out and fingered the hem of the dress. “Cullen to the rescue, as usual, wasn’t it?” The words stung and Taashath couldn’t figure out why. “Swooping in as the savior of the day. Always your hero.”

The truth of what she said settled uneasily in Taashath’s chest as she reached into her pocket and fingered the coin. Did he not believe she could take care of herself? Was that the reason for the coin? Tears burned her eyes and she blinked quickly because wasn’t that exactly the truth? Hadn’t she proved it time and time again? Always relying on someone else. When had she ever done anything for herself? Haven. But even that, she’d achieved because someone else had given it to her.

“He told you we’re leaving for the Shrine of Dumat?”

“Yes,” Taasha managed to get out and Evelyn smiled at her. There was something in that smile that felt… off. “Is there anything you’d like me to tell Blackwall for you?” Evelyn’s smile faltered and something crossed her features for just a moment.

“No,” she said quickly. “Just… keep an eye on him for me.” Then Evelyn practically dashed out of the room.


	36. Chapter 36

A bottle of whiskey that she had _borrowed_ from the tavern and Taashath was well and truly on her way to being drunk. Never before had she drunk with the intention of finding oblivion. A part of her almost wished that The Iron Bull had been at Skyhold, she might have worked up the courage to ask him for some of the stronger Qunari alcohol he no doubt had, so she could have gotten to this point faster. The Chargers were nice, Krem and the others, she liked them. But Iron Bull… Hissrad. He scared her and she imagined he always would.

Her eyes drifted to the gown that now hung in her room in Skyhold. Beautiful and ridiculous. She must have looked like an absolute fool in that dress. Taasha had heard the whispers of the Orlesians, but had they also been laughing at her? The Ox-Woman all dressed up, trying to be pretty? Heat suffused her face and she stood up quickly, nearly toppled over and all but bolted out of her room, bottle of whiskey still in hand.

She passed a group of soldiers and quickly looked away, remembering the overheard conversation on their journey back to Skyhold.

“ _Do you think the Commander is finally going to tell her?”_

“ _It’s obvious to everyone else he’s been in love with her since Haven.”_

“ _I think it goes back farther than that.”_

“ _Why hasn’t he told her?”_

“ _You know why.”_

She caught the furtive glances in her direction and pretended she hadn’t heard a word they’d said. Pretended her heart hadn’t felt like it was splitting open in her chest. Cullen was in love? With who? Since Haven or possibly before? Cassandra? Josephine? Leliana? Why hadn’t he told them? _Because of me. Because he is always having to rescue me_.

Taashath stumbled into the barn, found Blackwall sitting by the fire, a mug at his knee, working on a small carving. He looked up when she sat down unceremoniously on the opposite side of the fire. “Taashath,” he said, inclining his head.

“Blackwall,” she responded. Then they sat there in silence, and it was better than the silence in her room, but still, it was too quiet. Her own mind, even drunk as she was, still fighting with her. _Worthless. What good have you done here? You have had to rely on someone nearly every day of your life because you can’t take care of yourself. Cullen should have killed you in Kirkwall_.

She flinched at that thought. “Talk to me, please,” it came out a desperate gasp. “I don’t care about what, just talk so I’ll stop hearing my own thoughts.”

“Are you alright?” Blackwall asked with a concerned frown.

Taasha shook her head a little, then took another long pull from the bottle. “No, not really. You love Evelyn, don’t you?”

He was silent for a moment. “I… wouldn’t say love. I’m not sure if… I care about her. Very deeply.”

“She’s a bitch. There are some days I hate her so much. Other days I pity her and then sometimes, she isn’t so bad and I think that maybe… if I weren’t… me … that maybe we could have been friends.” Taashath shook her head again, rubbed a hand over her face. “I think you’re the only person she actually cares about in this whole thing.”

Blackwall fell silent at that and Taasha wished he’d just talk. Babble on about anything. “If Evelyn never came to Haven. If she wasn’t… here. Would you have looked at me like you look at her?” The words were out before she could stop them. He met her gaze and her cheeks flushed. “Don’t answer that, I didn’t mean it. I just wanted you to lie to me, you don’t have to-”

“Yes,” he said simply and despite the fact that Taasha was shaking her head, he continued. “You made me smile when you’d fallen from that tree, and after. You’re a good person, it’s obvious people here love you. I’m not a good man, by any stretch of the imagination. I’m not worthy of … a lot of things. But for you, I would have wanted to be. If there was no Evelyn, I would have loved you every day for the rest of my life.”

“Stop,” Taasha gasped out, her throat clogged with tears. “I was wrong. The lie is worse. I don’t-” she shook her head almost frantically as she scrambled to stand up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Taashath, it wasn’t a lie.”

Pain lanced her heart and tears blurred her vision. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, then fled back to her room.

 

In the morning, Taasha woke feeling worse than she had the night before. Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart, the dim light filtering in through the cracks of the shutters was too bright and her nose was stuffed up from having cried herself to sleep. Parrot lay on her the center of her chest, purring away and she reached up to rub her fingers against his head.

Blackwall’s words replayed in her mind again and again and they hurt. She’d thought she wanted to hear them, wouldn’t care if they were a lie, she just wanted someone to want her. But Taasha realized she’d been so incredibly wrong. They made her heart ache and she felt as if she’d been hollowed out.

“I know how much you hate to travel, love,” she said to the cat, he lifted his head and blinked at her. “But I think that we might just need to. I don’t think Skyhold is where we’re supposed to be.” How could it be? Despite all she tried to do to help, she felt useless and adrift. No one needed her.

And if Cullen had found someone to love, she wanted him to have that. She didn’t want to be the reason he didn’t find happiness. Taasha was well aware that them sharing a bed nearly every night was not something friends did. Imagined that anyone that Cullen wanted to be with, would take umbrage with it. “Leliana will know how to get in contact with Talon. One last time, we’ll ask for help.”

Resolved in her decision, Taashath spent the day in bed, dozing and sulking, getting up only when Parrot demanded food, and to use the chamber pot. Come the next morning, her head finally felt moderately better, and the decision made, she dressed and headed up to Leliana’s tower to put her plan in motion.

Leliana smiled at her as she crested the stairs, but then she frowned a little. “You look tired. Are you alright? I assure you, I’m trying to get to the bottom of that man’s claims of an auction with you as the prize.”

Taashath waved it off. “He’s dead. It doesn’t matter.”

“That is another thing I’m trying to figure out. Who killed him.”

Waving her hand again, wanting the entire thing forgotten Taashath reached out and gently stroked one of the crows heads. “I want to get a letter to Talon,” she said simply.

Leliana stilled. “I don’t know where she is.”

“But you can get into contact with her, can’t you?” Taashath knew Leliana had to know where Talon was. The woman knew everything.

“I might know where a certain Antivan Crow is...” Relief loosened the tightness in Taashath’s chest. “May I inquire as to why?”

Taashath crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, leaning her hip against the edge of the desk. “I don’t belong here, at Skyhold. Haven was my home. The Inquisition… it isn’t.”

“Is this because of what happened at the Winter Palace? Or the Templar? You haven’t had an easy time of it since we got to Skyhold, I know. But I assure you-”

Taashath held up a hand, hoping to silence the other woman. “No, that isn’t why. I… I have never done anything for myself. Leaving Kirkwall was because of Cullen, Hawke, and Talon. All those months I traveled with her and Zevran. Then with you. For years you saw me places and made sure I had what I needed. I’ve always had to rely on someone else to … live. I know asking Talon for help again is falling back into that same habit, but just this last time.”

Leliana was quiet for a moment. “I can assure you, Taasha, none of us ever saw it that way. We didn’t do these things because we believe you helpless and needed someone to take care of you. I cannot speak for the others, but I consider you a friend. If this is what you wish, then, of course, write your letter and I’ll see that she gets it. But I don’t want you to think you are some sort of burden to any of us.”

Hearing the words from Leliana’s lips made her feel slightly better about things because she knew the woman would never lie to her, not about this. “I think it’s for the best,” Taasha said, resolved in her decision.

“Then write your letter.”

Leliana waited until Taashath left, then wrote a quick letter of her own before fastening it to the little tube on Barron Plucky’s leg. “Go,” she said, ushering him to the window.

 

With matters seen to at the Shrine of Dumat, Cullen was anxious to return to Skyhold. _I should have kissed her_. The thought ran through his head at least a hundred times a day. _I should have just kissed her. Damn the consequences._ Either she wanted him back, or she didn’t. Still, they lingered, Evelyn, wanting to investigate every inch of the Shrine, not wanting to miss a single possible clue.

He stood in his tent, staring down at the small table, the makeshift ‘war room’ and all he could think of, all he could care about was Taashath. Cullen heard the flap on his tent shift and glanced up. Evelyn stood there, stripped of her armor, her hair hung down loose over her shoulders. “Commander,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “I was thinking,” she spoke softly as she made her way across the tent to him. “You seem so tense. I could help with that if you’d like.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer. The tunic she wore was unlaced low at the collar, her breasts obviously unbound beneath it.

She pressed a hand to his stomach, fingers curling around the waistband of his trousers. “You could use me, fuck me anyway that you like. I imagine you like it rough every now and then. There is an excellent spot not far from here, where you could bend me over and fuck me nice and proper.”

He was stunned. His body reacted to the words. It _had_ been a long time. But in his mind, it wasn’t Evelyn. It was Taasha. Cullen curled his hand around her wrist the moment she started to try and slide her hand below the waistband. “And what of the Warden Blackwall?”

She faltered for a heartbeat, then laughed, shaking her head. “It’s sex. That’s all. The man knows how to fuck. He’s good and obedient, knows how to use his tongue. But I think _you_ could give me what I really want.”

Cullen had heard whispers about how Evelyn seemed like a completely different person away from Skyhold, but he’d never seen it for himself. What game was she playing at? “No,” he said, removing her hand from his stomach. He held her away from him.

“I know how to use my tongue too,” she persisted, licking her lips. She sunk down to her knees, tilted her head back and parted damp lips.

He stepped back from her, something akin to disgust curling in his belly. He’d never seen her like this and he definitely did not like it. “Absolutely not. Get out, Evelyn. Before you embarrass us both.”

She blinked slowly, then sighed. “Oh well, your loss, Commander.”

The letter from Leliana arrived the next day and Cullen scanned it, then frowned and reread it again, then again.

_Commander Cullen,_

_If you wish not to lose her, I would suggest returning to Skyhold with haste before she leaves._

Taashath was going to leave? Why? Had something else happened? A mix of rage and worry suffused him. He had to get back to Skyhold immediately.

_I should have kissed her._


	37. Chapter 37

Her room was the first place he went to after riding through the gates and handing his horse off to one of the soldiers. _I should have kissed her!_ He’d berated himself since he’d read Leliana’s letter. _Idiot_. If he lost his chance with her, it would serve him right. But the idea of her leaving caused an ache in his chest so wide he thought it might well rip him open. Cullen shoved open the door and his breath lodged in his throat.

The bed was gone, in its place a simple bedroll. A small chest lay open, half packed with her belongings. A few books stacked inside with clothes spilling out. Parrot wound between his legs and he looked down, knowing she wouldn’t leave the cat and felt a small bit of relief. Leliana would know where to find her. Closing the door he hurried up to the tower.

“Where is she?” he asked coming to stand in front of her desk. Leliana leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “What?” Cullen asked, almost desperately and tried to remind himself, she wouldn’t have left without Parrot.

“What exactly are you planning to do when you find her?”

_Kiss her. Tell her that she is my everything_. He crossed his arms over his own chest. “That isn’t any of your business.”

Leliana’s brows rose at that. “You may have met her first, but taking into account time spent with her, I have known her longer.”

Cullen scowled at Leliana. “What is your point?”

“She’s unhappy here. She doesn’t feel like she does enough.”

“She does more than enough,” Cullen groused. “I’ve told her that time and time again.”

“But she doesn’t believe it. In Haven, she had the tavern. Here, she has nothing. You have excellent timing though, you can take this to her.” Leliana held out a rolled up scroll. “One of the women from the kitchen, Miri, just had a baby, blue house. Yellow flowers painted on the door.”

_She doesn’t have nothing_ , Cullen thought bitterly as he made his way down the curving stairs. Why couldn’t she see that? He was filthy from his travels, covered in road dust. He could stop at the bathhouse, clean up. What were five more minutes in the grand scheme of things? But he’d waited so long to tell her. Waited so long that now she was considering leaving. Five more minutes was _too_ long.

He quickened his pace, but then found himself slowing it once again when he sighted the Warden Blackwall standing with his back against the stone wall near the door that lead out of Skyhold and to the small village. The memory of what Evelyn had offered clear in his mind. Did Blackwall feel the same about her? Was it just sex?

“Warden,” Cullen said, inclining his head.

“A moment, Commander.”

Cullen cursed the delay, and for a moment, wondered if he knew what Evelyn had done. But no, he couldn’t, there was no way for him to know. “Actually, I’m in a bit of a hurry at the moment.”

“Are you finally done playing whatever game it is you’re playing with her?”

The claim startled him. “Excuse me?”

“Taashath,” Blackwall clarified, though he hadn’t needed to, and pushed off the wall. “If it weren’t for Evelyn, I’ll have you know that I would have stepped in and made sure she knew just how amazing she is.” His words caused a strange tightness in Cullen’s chest. Had Blackwall been interested in Taashath? He remembered back in Haven, when Blackwall had first come to join the Inquisition, remembered the look he’d given Taasha after she’d fallen from the tree.

He’d well and truly been a fool. He could have lost her before he’d even had the chance to realize how much she meant to him. “That isn’t going to be an issue,” Cullen said and decided he’d ask Taashath how he should handle the information about Evelyn.

Blackwall nodded and scratched his jaw through his beard. “You break her heart, I know plenty of darkspawn caves where your body will never be found.”

Cullen watched the man go, at once enraged at the threat and happy beyond reason that Taashath had someone who cared. But many cared about her. She was just too blind to see it. He set out again, trying to sort out the words. He’d replayed them in his head so many times, how he’d sit her down, explain to her that he loved her, wanted to be with her if she were willing.

In the village, Cullen found the blue house, with the delicate flowers painted on the door. Drawing in a breath, he straightened his spine and knocked. There were voices from inside, then a soft shuffling and the door swung open.“I was looking for Taashath, Leliana said she might be here.”

The Dwarven woman, who barely reached mid-chest, crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him. “Commander Cullen,” she said, in a voice that sounded like honey. “What do you want with my Taashath?”

“Your-” he broke off, swallowed. “I need to speak with her,” he said, trying to remain calm.

“Finally pulled your head out of your ass, have you? If not, I’d be more than happy to keep her for myself.”

“She isn’t-” he grit his teeth. Had everyone in Skyhold figured out his feelings for her before he had? “She isn’t something to be _kept_ ,” he managed to get out.

Miri continued to stare at him for several long minutes, then stepped back allowing him in. Cullen followed her and found Taashath sitting on the floor in the center of a small room, carefully holding a baby in her arms, her head ducked down low, murmuring quiet things to the child wrapped in the deep purple colored linen. “She looks good with my baby in her arms, doesn’t she,” the woman murmured and Cullen couldn’t reply, his breath utterly stolen.

Children. Another thing as a Templar he’d never considered. But seeing Taasha, smiling down at the newborn made him _want_. Would she want them? Could they even have them? _You haven’t even told her you love her, and you’re thinking of children?_ He tried to shake the thought out of his head, but it was there, an aching desire.

She lifted her head, met his gaze and for a moment looked mildly surprised. “What are you doing back so soon?” Then the baby cooed and Taasha laughed quietly, her attention immediately going back to the child. “Look at her Cullen, she’s so tiny, so perfect.”

Cullen crouched down beside her, one hand splaying over Taashath’s back, the other reaching out to run a careful fingertip down the baby’s small upturned nose. “She is,” he agreed, then glanced up, met Miri’s gaze. “No,” he told her.

Taasha looked up again, frowning as she looked between the two. “No what? Is everything okay? Did the others return as well?”

“No,” Cullen said more gently this time, his hand absently rubbing circles on Taasha’s back. “I had a very important matter to see to so I returned alone.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked again, the concern so evident in her voice.

“Time will tell. Are you- would you walk with me? I would like to discuss something with you.”

“Of course,” Taashath nodded and he caught the look of longing in her eyes as she handed the baby back over to Miri.

They said their farewells, and Cullen didn’t miss the look Miri gave him. Cullen held Taasha’s hand as they walked out of the house and began making their way back to Skyhold. “Oh, I nearly forgot, Leliana asked me to give this to you,” he held out the scroll to her. She stopped walking and he had to release her hand to allow her to unroll it. Her eyes flew across the page and her mouth worked silently.

“Oh,” she breathed then her gaze flicked to Cullen’s face then back to the scroll. “Talon is coming.”

“Talon?” he blinked at her, repeatedly. “Talon Surana?” She nodded. “How do you know Talon?”

She bit her lip, rolling up the scroll and tucking it away. “The friend of Anders, who’d traveled with a Qunari before, the one who got me away from Kirkwall? It was Talon.”

His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to process the words. Taasha knew Talon. Had known Talon. And Talon was coming to Skyhold? _To take her away, you fool_. “Well, it looks like we have a lot to discuss.” He swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t lose her. Cullen wouldn’t let her go without a fight. “Do you still have the coin I gave you?” he asked and after a moment, Taashath fished it out of her pocket.

“Of course,” she told him.

He nodded a little, then wrapped his hand around the coin and her fingers and looked at her. “I should have done this a long time ago.” His free hand slid into the hair at the nape of her neck and claimed her lips in a kiss. Several long heartbeats passed, her lips were lax against his and Cullen wondered if he’d made a mistake. _Fool_. But then, she sighed softly and seemed to melt into the kiss. It was tentative, but she responded and Cullen felt the blood rushing in his ears. His heart soared.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

Finally, breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers and watched as her eyes fluttered open her brow furrowing. “Why did you-” her breath hitched and Cullen saw the dampness in her eyes. Taashath shook her head and started to pull away, but Cullen held on.

“I love you.” The weight that lifted from his chest the moment the words passed his lips was immeasurable. Taashath went utterly still, he wasn’t sure she was even breathing as she stared at him, gold eyes wide. “As I said, we have much to discuss.”


	38. Chapter 38

Taashath could still feel Cullen’s lips against hers even after he’d pulled away. Imagined that the sensation of it would always be embedded in her memory. _Cullen kissed me. Why? Why!?_ Her mind was reeling, her heart beating a rapid tattoo in her chest. Tears filled her eyes because she didn’t understand. “Why did you-” she broke off, the words lodging in her throat. Cullen wasn’t a cruel man, so she didn’t believe it was him playing some joke on her. But to kiss her like that?

“I love you.” He said the words so succinctly. Her heart stuttered in her chest and her lungs didn’t seem to work anymore. “As I said, we have much to discuss.”

_I love you. I love you. I love you._ Cullen’s voice echoed in her mind as he took her hand once again and she allowed him to lead her back to Skyhold. She was grateful because, without it, she thought she probably would have just sunk to the ground and stayed there. “You said-” the words came out a strangled whisper.

“That I love you, yes.”

So matter of fact.

It was a dream. A cruel one.

“I don’t understand.”

In his office, Cullen closed and locked the doors before turning back to her. He nudged her back so she sat on the edge of his desk and he stood between her thighs. They’d sat in that very same position so many times before, but now, now that he’d kissed her, Taashath felt very aware of everywhere they touched. Her inner thighs pressing against his hips, the heat of his body against hers. His hands, large, calloused and so strong, cupped her cheeks. “I am in love with you, Taasha.”

Tears burned the backs of her eyes once again because none of it made any sense. “No,” she said shaking her head a little. Remembering the soldiers' words. The quick glances. “Not me,” she whispered. “I’m not...” _not human._ “I’m-” _two of your worst nightmares combined._

“Yes, you,” he said with a little laugh and she could feel his breath against her lips. “I love you.”

“I’m Saarebas.” A gentle reminder. As if he could forget. But it had to be a mistake.

He pulled back slightly, enough to meet her gaze and the look in his eyes softened. “Maker’s breath. Taashath, I know exactly who you are. I have been in love with you for… honestly, I think I started to fall in love with you in that cave on the Wounded Coast. You are my heart, a piece of my soul. But I couldn’t see it. Not then. Not for a long time after. But after nearly losing you again, everything fell into place.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until he wiped the tears away. They were words she’d always wanted to hear. But Taasha was struggling to believe them. She wanted them to be true. But she knew, deep down, that no one would ever love her. Cullen was mistaken. Or it was a miscommunication. Besides what did she know of love?

“Darling,” he murmured. “Don’t cry.” Cullen fished a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at the tears that still rolled down her cheeks. “I can honestly say, this was not in my pre-planned reactions. Anger, I was prepared for, hoped for reciprocation. But tears… I can say I’m utterly unprepared for that.” He cupped her face again. “Please, Taasha darling, don’t cry.”

“No one has ever…” No one had ever told her they loved her. Love wasn’t a necessary emotion in the Qun. And Blackwall’s lie didn’t count. “I don’t understand.”

Cullen opened his mouth, closed it. “I am in love with you. With every fiber of my being, I want you. I want you to be happy, I want to make you smile. I want to wake up with you every morning. I want to be able to kiss you any time I like. I want-” he broke off and her brow furrowed.

“Sex?” All she knew of love was from the romance novels she read. She watched Cullen’s cheeks as they scorched a bright pink.

“Yes, well,” he coughed. “Yes. That too. But… more than that. Taasha, can you accept that I am in love with you? That I want a relationship? Can we try?”

“I don’t know if I know how to … love.”

For a moment, Cullen looked crestfallen and she wanted desperately to make that expression go away. But then he offered her a soft smile. “I won’t expect anything you aren’t willing to give, my darling.”

Something in the way he said, _darling_ , this time, made her heart flutter in her chest. “What if I do it wrong?” It was barely a whisper. She was scared. Cullen was one of the most important people in her life. Evelyn had been right with her snarky comment about him being her hero. He was her hero. Not just because he’d stepped in so many times before and saved her from one fate or the other. Cullen was kind. He knew her so well. He was everything to her. Was that love? She had no idea.

He leaned in again, rubbed his nose against hers, before pressing their foreheads together. “Just let me love you, darling. We will figure it out as we go, alright?”

After a long moment searching his eyes, she nodded a little. “Alright.” Then he was kissing her again. Claiming her mouth with his and her head was swimming. Taasha couldn’t breathe and her fingers dug into his sides as she clung to him. When she felt Cullen’s tongue against her lower lip she made a sound that had Cullen groaning and deepening the kiss, his hand sliding into her hair to angle her mouth just so as he plundered.

“That means,” he panted quietly against her lips when he finally withdrew an eternity later. “You aren’t leaving Skyhold.”

Taashath sucked in a sharp breath. “How did you-? Leliana.”

“Thank the Maker for her sending for me. Would you truly have left without a word?”

She opened her mouth then closed it before splaying her hand over his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her palm. “No, I...” Taashath tipped her head back, looked up at him. “No. But I don’t belong here, Cullen.”

“You most certainly do belong here. How can you not see it, love? You have done so much for everyone here.” Cullen slid one hand down her throat, over her arm and took her hand in his, then brought it up to press a kiss to the back of it. “Are you that unhappy here at Skyhold? The Templars will no longer be an issue, and if anything happens you’ll tell me,” he said, giving her a look. “I want you to be happy, darling.”

Taashath shook her head a little. “It isn’t that, I’m not unhappy.” She had Cullen, her friendship with Blackwall that she cherished, though she imagined after her drunken questions it would likely never be the same. “I feel useless,” it came out a defeated whisper.

“We’ll figure it out, something, anything. Please, promise me you won’t leave.”

She bit her lip, looked at their entwined fingers. “Well, attempting this relationship would be rather difficult if I were to leave. I want… I do want to try. I just… don’t know what I’m doing Cullen. I have never- I never thought to- You’re my best friend.”

He smiled at that, his thumb rubbing along her lower lip. “I adore you, darling. We’ll figure it out. As slow as you need.”

“What if I don’t want to go slow?” Taashath ducked her head, stared at a freckle on his throat. They had always been honest with each other. Never shying away from the truth no matter how embarrassing. “I touched myself once while thinking of you.”

Cullen’s body went stock still and for a moment she thought admitting to that had been a mistake, but then his hands were in her hair and his mouth was on hers and she was lost to the kiss. It was all tongue and teeth and she clung to him desperately. One of his hands slid down to her thigh, gripped it and tugged their lower bodies flush. It took several distracted moments for her to register the thick bulge that pressed against her core as he rocked against her.

They broke apart, gasping as something thumped against one of the doors. Then came the yowling. Pathetic and desperate and Cullen groaned. “Andraste preserve me, woman,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against hers as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Parrot missed you,” she panted out. The yowling continued growing more and more frenzied. Her lips curved up slightly and she ran her fingers along Cullen’s jaw, feeling the coarse stubble there. It still felt unreal. She felt as if she’d wake up at any moment and none of this would be real. His eyes slipped shut and he leaned into her touch, then sighed, broke away and headed for the door. The moment he cracked it open, Parrot darted in, all but flew around the room before launching himself at Cullen. “Told you.” She smiled.

Cullen cradled the cat in his arms as it rolled and flopped onto its back as if it were a baby. He sighed, defeated and rubbed the cats head as he crossed back to Taashath. “I need to get cleaned up, I’ve not had a chance to for the last few days, but I’m want to leave you.”

“Have you eaten?” Taashath asked, reaching out to rub her fingers against Parrot’s belly, causing the cat to purr louder at the much-welcomed attention. Cullen made a quiet sound. “Go clean up, I’ll fetch us something to eat.”

“And you’ll tell me about Talon?”

Taashath peeked up at him, then nodded. “And I’ll tell you about Talon.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it only took 38 Chapters! - I do have to say that is longer than most of my 'long' fics. This story is still far from complete, and I just want to say thank you so much for reading it!

Taashath found herself touching her lips repeatedly after leaving Cullen to allow him to clean up. She swore she could still feel the sensation of his mouth on hers. He’d kissed her. He wanted her. Her heart skipped a beat as she made her way to the kitchens to see about having a meal sent to his office. _He wants me_ , the thought made her stomach flutter and she pressed a hand to it. _I don’t understand it, but he wants me_. Her steps faltered when she spotted Blackwall chopping wood. She’d made a fool of herself in front of him. “Blackwall,” she said softly stopping a few feet away.

He was already mid-swing with the ax. The wood split in half and then he looked at her. “My lady,” he inclined his head, looked at her for a moment and then nodded. “I take it the Commander found you then?”

Taashath’s cheeks flushed and she wondered how he knew. “Um, yes, he did. I just-I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was very drunk and… and well. You know. And I’m sorry.”

He gave a wave of his hand and shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Taashath. You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“But I-”

“I meant every word of it. And if the Commander fails to make you happy, he’ll answer to me.”

Swallowing, Taasha nodded a little. She wasn’t sure what to make of that and she wondered, maybe, if, in another life, she and Blackwall could have found happiness together. She crossed to him, brushed a kiss across his cheek. “Well, the same goes for Evelyn and you.” The corner of his mouth twisted up in a half smile and he cupped her cheek.

They stood there for a moment before she finally broke away. “I’ll see you later,” she said then headed for the kitchen. After finding one of the cooks, Taasha made her request, then was promptly shooed out with the promise that food would be delivered. Sighing, she left and not knowing what else to do with herself, she thought about going to his office to wait for him.

Instead, she climbed the stairs to Leliana’s tower and found the woman standing near one of the windows, staring out. Taashath walked around Leliana’s desk and stopped on the other side of the window, leaned her shoulder against it. Leliana continued to stare outside. “Why did you tell him?” she asked.

A small smile played at the corner of Leliana’s lips. “Did you know that there has been a betting pool since back in Haven about the two of you?”

“What?” Taasha asked startled, her hands falling to her sides as she straightened. “What are you talking about?”

“It equal parts amused and infuriated the soldiers and the scouts… Cassandra too,” Leliana laughed. “It’s been so obvious to all of us, the two of you were meant for each other.”

“He’s my friend. We’re friends,” Taashath insisted, not sure how she felt about everyone apparently already knowing.

“You share your bed with many friends? You never shared it with me. Or Cassandra, Talon, or even Blackwall for that matter.” Taashath’s cheeks flamed.

“What if they’re wrong? What if _he’s_ wrong? What if… I’m wrong, and there is a reason there is no such thing as love in the Qun.”

Leliana canted her head to the side. “And you think that you’re not capable of loving him? Taasha, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You care so easily, so deeply. Look at Evelyn, nearly everyone else in Skyhold can barely stand to be around her, save for Blackwall. She’s never been kind to you, and yet you still care. You still searched for her when you yourself were nearly dead on your feet.”

Taashath made a quiet sound and wrapped her arms around herself. “Well, you didn’t have to bring my horrible judgment of people into this.”

Leliana reached out and touched Taashath’s arm, squeezed it gently. “It has nothing to do with your judgment. I think you see people more clearly than most. As for your relationship with Cullen, either it lasts, or it doesn’t. You two may live the rest of your lives together, you may grow apart, grow to hate each other.” The words caused a physical ache in Taashath’s chest and she reached up, tried to rub it away. “Or the two of you may grow stronger together with every passing day. That isn’t to say there won’t be disagreements, arguments. That doesn’t mean that despite how much you love each other, you might hate each other just a little bit some days. You may have to fight for every ounce of happiness. Real life isn’t like the romance novels you favor. Real life can be as painful as it is beautiful.

“The reason I wrote to Cullen when you told me you wanted to leave? Because the both of you deserve a chance to be happy. Maybe you’ll find it together, or maybe you won’t. But I thought that you deserved the chance.”

Taasha stood there for a while, letting Leliana’s words replay in her mind. “Thank you,” she finally said. “I hope… I hope it was the right choice. Also, I would write to Talon and tell her that my plans have changed, but she said she needed to speak to you about something in person, so she’ll still be coming, though she said it may take a few months before she has things sorted out.”

Biding Leliana a farewell, Taashath made her way across the rampart to Cullen’s office. He’d beat her there, but only just barely and stood staring at a small table set up, with food and wine and candles. “Oh,” Taashath breathed out. “What-?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Cullen said, reaching out to slide his hand into hers.

“I only asked that they bring a meal- Oh, Andraste, preserve me,” she whispered. “The people of Skyhold need to find something else to entertain themselves with. Did you know?”

“Know what?” Cullen asked, a little startled at her tone.

“There was a betting pool!”

“A what?”

“About the two of us. Apparently, how long it would take us to get together.” At that, Cullen chuckled quietly, he stepped close and brushed a kiss over her lips before crossing to the table where he filled two glasses with wine.

“Who won?”

“I-…” Taashath opened her mouth then snapped it shut. “You’re not upset?”

“Are you?” Cullen held one of the glasses out to her and she took it, then stared at the dark red wine inside.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

Cullen took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and angled her head down to press another light kiss to her lips. “I know that I love you,” he said and her heart skipped several beats.

“I-” she pressed her lips together in a thin line. “What if I can never say it back to you?”

“Darling,” Cullen murmured. “One day at a time.” He stole another kiss then withdrew. “Come on, let’s sit down and eat, and you can fill in all the details you neglected to tell me about your journey from Kirkwall.”

They ate, she talked and told him everything she’d left out before. “She had married, a man named Zevran, a former Antivan Crow, he was… very kind.” Taashath hadn’t known then, hadn’t realized the way Zevran had looked at Talon was with utter devotion.

“Zevran?” Cullen asked with a low chuckle, sipping from his glass of wine. “The Inquisition has had a few dealings with him, a contact of Leliana’s, he has helped us a few times. When this all began, she swore she had no idea where Talon was.” He shook his head. “But why didn’t you tell me all of this before, darling. I have spoken of Talon a number of times, you told me nearly everything about your escape from Kirkwall, except for that.”

Taasha reached across the small table, held her hand out palm up, Cullen closed the distance and slid his hand into hers. “I wasn’t sure how you felt about her when we first met again in Haven. She told me some of what happened in Kinloch Hold, at least what she knew. That the demons had...” Taasha pursed her lips together and Cullen squeezed her hand.

“That they tortured me and slaughtered my fellow Templars?”

Taashath squeezed back. “You said it yourself, you weren’t kind to her in the end. I hadn’t been sure if you hated her, so I didn’t mention her. Then, later, I was going to tell you, there were a few times. But… it never felt right.”

“I did hate her, for a long time. Did she tell you I begged for her to kill me when she freed me in Kinloch Hold? The demon wore her face and taunted me with it. Tried to break me. It nearly worked. I fought so hard, but they nearly broke me.” Taasha squeezed his hand tightly. “But the man that I am now… I wouldn’t be if it hadn’t been for you.” Cullen met her surprised gaze and stared into her eyes. “I was angry and full of hatred for all mages. I am ashamed of the things I did, the things I stood by while others did.”

Her brow furrowed. “But you saved so many. Thirty-nine you rescued and then you stood up to Meredith, and by doing that, you saved so many more.”

“Because of you, darling.” She blushed and ducked her head, feeling a little overwhelmed by the claim, though it wasn’t the first time he’d told her that. The idea that she had played a pivotal role in Cullen moving past his anger made her chest feel tight. “I do have a question for you though, when I first returned to Skyhold, I went looking for you before asking Leliana where to find you. I stopped in your room,” he met her gaze and after a beat continued. “What did you do with the bed?”

Taashath sunk her teeth into her lower lip and suddenly the easy willingness of the soldiers she’d asked for help made so much more sense, the nosy busybodies. Slowly she let her gaze drift up to the ceiling and Cullen followed the movement.

The corners of his lips turned up and he pushed his chair back from the table then crossed around it to stand beside Taashath. Leaning down, he cupped her jaw and brushed a slow, soft kiss over her lips. “Come to bed, darling.”

Heat pooled in her belly as she stared up at him and her body was suddenly awash with anxious excitement. Cullen _wanted_ her.


	40. Chapter 40

The loft was much smaller with the large bed taking up so much of it, but the space was welcoming. Taashath stood, her hands twisting together as she stared at the bed while Cullen put away his few belongings that he’d carried from Halamshiral to the Shrine of Dumat and back to Skyhold. “Darling,” he said gently. “Nothing has to happen tonight,” he told her. “I don’t expect-” he gave his head a little shake and crossed to her, taking her hands and kissing them gently. “I love you and I will be happy to hold you in my arms as we sleep.”

“We always do that. We’ve done that for months,” Taashath murmured, staring down at their entwined hands.

“We have,” Cullen agreed, one hand lifting to her scarred cheek. “And I truly sleep better with you at my side.” He nudged her backward until the backs of her legs bumped against the bed and she sat down. “And I want to make love to you, to kiss each inch of your body,” her breath hitched as his mouth lowered to graze along her jaw to her ear. “But if you need more time, if you aren’t ready to take that step, my love, I can wait.”

Her heart was beating so hard she thought it might escape her chest as she reached up and curled her fingers in the front of Cullen’s tunic. “I want… I do want to… to make love. But, Cullen, I’m… I don’t know what to do. Everything I know is from those ridiculous romance novels and I know that none of that is real-” she said the words in a rush.

Cullen’s next kiss was slow and languid. So tender and it made it hard to breathe. When he ended the kiss, he pressed his forehead against hers. “I must admit, it has been quite some time for me, my darling, quite some time,” he repeated. “And even then it wasn’t…” He traced her cheek with the tip of his finger, the ridges of the scar on her cheek. “This will be new for both of us,” he told her. “We’ll learn together.”

“But you’ve… done this before. I’ve only read about it.”

“Taasha, darling, yes, I loved Talon. But what I felt for her isn’t even a fraction of what I feel for you. The time spent with her,” he sighed and sunk down onto the bed beside her. “Stolen moments in alcoves. Frantic kisses claimed in empty hallways. I never shared a bed with anyone other than you.”

She shook her head a little. “But there were other women.” Taashath didn’t care about it, of course, there had been other women. It was that she had no experience and she knew she’d be a bumbling fool in comparison. She was still struggling to accept that Cullen wanted her and was so afraid of messing up.

“Not so many as you seem to think,” he said, the sunk down to his knees in front of her. She watched as he began unlacing her boots slow and methodically. “Two women, other than Talon. Two women who worked at the Blooming Rose. Then I met you and I … stopped going.”

It took a moment for the name, then his words, to register. “Cullen,” Taashath breathed, unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch the little curl of hair that tumbled of his forehead. “It’s been seven years.”

“So it has,” he gave her a crooked smile and tugged her boots free and tossed them aside. “As I said, we’ll learn together, at whatever pace you want.” Cullen pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee as he moved to stand. “Scoot up, love.” The endearments seemed to spill so easily from his lips that it made Taasha’s heart swell in her chest. _Darling_. It felt as if he’d always called her darling. _Love_. _I love you_.

Taashath moved to obey his request, scooting backward up to the head of the bed until she leaned propped against the pillows while Cullen unlaced his own boots before crawling up the bed. Her heartbeat quickened as he straddled her thighs, cupped her chin and kissed her. She liked this kissing thing. Liked the feel of his mouth on hers, the slide of his tongue. Curling her hands into fists in the fabric of his shirt she arched into him and heard him groan, felt it against her lips.

Cullen stretched out beside her, tugging her onto her side to face him. Chests pressed together, thighs touching, Cullen nudged his knee between hers and she slid a hand up to splay over his chest. It wasn’t so unlike how they lay together many nights, wrapped around each other. But now she was hyper-aware of the way her nipples tightened at the scrape of fabric as he dragged her even closer.

They kissed and kissed and the heat inside her grew and raged and became an inferno. “Cullen,” she mumbled out against his mouth. “Please,” it came out a desperate sound. His hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, work-roughened fingers touching bare skin. The sensation had her gasping as it glided up her side, then when he found the curve of her waist it smoothed up her spine. Taashath arched her back, and Cullen’s mouth settled on her throat. “Oh!” His teeth gently scraped over her throat and she clung to him, her nails digging into his back.

Skin. She wanted to feel his skin. The thought flooded her mind as he began kissing lower over her throat, then along her collarbone. “Off!” she choked out, one hand shifting down to tug at the hem of his tunic. It was a strange desperation, the need that was building inside of her as Cullen touched her. Taashath might have been embarrassed were it anyone else.

Cullen let out a low groan, rolled over Taashath so she was pinned beneath him before rearing up onto his haunches. She watched as he yanked the shirt over his head and threw it aside. Taasha had seen his bare chest a number of times. Felt it beneath her fingers and slept with her cheek against the bare skin. She had traced his scars with gentle fingers. Now she wanted to trace them again, with lips and tongue. Taashath reached out to slide her hand over his stomach, to feel the coarse hair that arrowed down below the waistband of his trousers, but Cullen caught her hand, pulled her up until she sat.

Her lips parted, curious, ready to ask, but then his fingers were wrapped around the hem of her shirt and he lifted a few inches, waited, soft eyes, full of desire and something else that she couldn’t describe stared into hers. She gave a little nod of her head and lifted her arms up over her head.

The shirt got caught on her horns, and Cullen cursed quietly and tugged it back down to release the thin cording at the collar. The corner of her mouth twisted up into a little grin and paused for a moment, fingertips lingering, then he smiled back at her. “I love you,” he murmured, ducking his head down to press a kiss to her lips, then he tugged her shirt up again, this time succeeding in untangling it from her horns. “Maker knows I don’t deserve you,” his fingers slid into her hair as he cupped the back of her head. “I’ve done such terrible things-”

“Hush,” Taasha murmured, her hands sliding up his sides, along his throat, to rest on either side of his jaw. “And you’ve done so much to make up for it all.”

“A handful of good deeds does not balance out the cruelty I turned a blind eye to.”

“You love me,” she said and he blinked.

“I do. With every fiber of my being.”

“A former Templar, who suffered his own fair share of torment at the hands of mages and demons. And you love me, a _Saarebas_. A mage. A Qunari.”

His shoulders seemed to relax and his features softened. “I do. I love you, Taasha, darling.”

Her hand slid down to rest over his heart, she could feel the steady beat of it beneath her fingers. She had wondered what she’d do without him. Her constant. Her everything. “Kadan,” the word was a whisper. She’d never spoken it before. But as it passed her lips everything about it felt right. Cullen stilled and she met his gaze. His brow was furrowed, searching for the meaning of the word. “My heart. It means, my heart. That is what you are, Cullen. My heart.” She had friends, people she cared deeply for, who cared for her as well. But Cullen was so much more. Was that love?

Cullen kissed her again and she thought her heart might explode as he leaned her back and stretched out over her. The word _love_ passed his lips again and again and she wrapped her arms around him and answered back with _Kadan_.

They kissed and kissed and the heat grew again. Fingers skimming over exposed flesh. Taashath curled her leg over Cullen’s hip and he groaned against her mouth, the kiss shifting into something deeper. Propping himself up on an elbow beside her shoulder, Cullen lifted his head, his free hand toying with the edge of her breast band. Deft fingers found the simple clasp and released it and without ever tearing his gaze from hers he pulled the fabric away and tossed it off the bed.

Then his hand was sliding up the curve of her belly, along her ribs and she couldn’t breathe. Calloused fingers traced the underside of her breast, then his thumb drew up and grazed the pebbled bud. “Oh!” it was a soft cry the escaped her lips and she arched into the touch while her nails dug into his shoulders.

“Do you like that?” he murmured against her ear and she jerked her head in a nod. “Good,” then his mouth slid along her throat, over her collarbone and her next cry was not so soft as the one before when his lips wrapped around her other nipple. “Alright?” he asked, glancing up at her through hooded lids before tracing the tip of his tongue around the areola.

“Yes!” she practically shouted, the leg she had wrapped around his hip moving up higher, tightening, and he groaned, rocking his hips against her before sucking the hard nipple into his mouth once again while he continued to cup and knead the other with gentle fingers.

The pleasure was almost unbearable. Taashath had touched her own breasts, enjoyed the sensation, tugged at her nipples and teased the sensitive flesh, but it didn’t compare to the feel of Cullen’s fingers and lips and tongue. The scrape of teeth stole her breath and she found her fingers in his hair, clutching at the back of his head. He switched breasts, laving the same attention on the other until she was a gasping, panting mess. A thin layer of sweat coated her skin and she wanted more. “Cullen, Cullen, please,” she begged and then he shifted, his mouth placing sucking kisses along her ribs, the slope of her belly, lower still.

Cullen reached the waistband of her leggings and looked up at her and so slowly, he dragged them over her hips and down her thighs. He moved down farther until she lay bare before him. Her heart was beating out of control and a sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over her. He loves me, she reminded herself. “That night that I found you, laying on your pallet in the back of the tavern in Haven, the night you were pleasuring yourself,” he murmured, one hand reaching for hers. Cullen kissed her fingertips before directing her hand down to cup her mound. He took her other hand and moved it to her breast, nipple caught between her knuckles. Then he groaned. “I wanted to crawl between your thighs that night – Maker, I should have figured it out sooner. So much time lost. But I intend to make up for it.”

Taashath expected him to strip out of his trousers, settle between her thighs and finally make love to her. But no, he shifted back down her body, stretched out between her thighs, nudging them farther apart to make way for his broad shoulders. Surely, he didn’t mean to- the thought was cut off abruptly when she felt his hands slide up to the apex of her thighs, thumbs slid through her curls and spreading her open and then his tongue dipped into her opening, licked up to her clit and she was lost.


	41. Chapter 41

Cullen teased with lips and tongue, lapped at her, closed his eyes and savored the taste while her gasping breaths were music to his ears. His cock throbbed where it lay trapped between his belly and the soft mattress. She was so wet, just the thought of sliding through her wet heat, filling her, nearly had him coming.

Taashath’s eagerness had surprised him, he’d fully expected to have to spend months wooing her just to get her to accept that he was in love with her. The fact that she was naked and his for the taking humbled him. He’d make sure that Taasha never regretted a moment of it. Her fingernails scraped against his scalp as he explored her with his tongue. “Cullen, Cullen,” she panted softly. “Kadan.”

That had stunned him. Hearing her say that word. He had known what the word meant and then she’d spoken it and he’d thought his heart might burst. Cullen wanted a life with her, a future. Forever. A house and children and dogs underfoot. All the things he had never even thought to hope for, he wanted them and he wanted them with Taashath.

Her cries grew breathier as he teased her clit with the tip of his tongue, one hand sliding up higher, he slid a finger into her wet heat. Taashath’s body tensed, back arching, her calf a solid pressure at his back, then her voice reached his ears. Quiet begging. A mix of his name and the word please, over and over again. A second finger joined the first, and it was a kind of torture for him. It would only take a moment to shed his pants and shift up her body.

Cullen ached to feel her wrapped around him. Soon, he told himself and let his free hand slide up her belly to cup her breast. Her own hand was already there, kneading the flesh and pinching her nipple between her knuckles. Redoubling his efforts, he thrust his fingers faster, deeper, latched onto her clit with the sole purpose of hearing her cry out in pleasure.

She did. It only took a few moments. Her breath hitched. “Oh-” a whisper of sound. “Cullen!” A shout that was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

_Again_ , he thought, lifting his head and sliding his thumb into place. He shifted up so he could see her face, never breaking the pace of his fingers. Her eyes were clenched shut and her teeth sunk into her lower lip. Cullen licked her nipple. “Taashath, open your eyes.”

She whimpered. “Taashath,” he said again, an edge of command in his voice. They snapped open immediately and met his.

“Cull-” Lips parted, she breathed in quiet gasps.

“Come for me, love, let me see you come again.”

Her jaw trembled and he watched as the pleasure seemed to move through her in slow motion. Her thighs quaked against his hips, her inner walls clenched around his fingers. Her back arched and her head fell back, exposing the long line of her throat. “Fuck!” Her shout echoed off the stone walls of the tower, and probably all through Skyhold. “Cullen!” He coaxed her through the orgasm, fingers slowing until he held them still, but still buried deep just the enjoy the feel of her pulsing heat.

Taashath’s breathing was ragged and it seemed to take a great effort for her to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “Maker’s breath,” Cullen murmured pressing soft kisses over her chest, her collarbone, then up her throat. “That was beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Her lips twisted into a half smile. “That was...” she huffed a breath. “Better than fantasy.”

Cullen groaned quietly. “You’ll tell me about that fantasy later.”

“Hm,” she murmured, eyelids fluttering. “I think it’s safe to say,” she mumbled. “The scouts and soldiers can call an end to their betting pool.”

Cullen chuckled quietly, his lips making their way along her jaw before he found her mouth and kissed her tenderly. “I think you’re right.”

They lay there like that for a moment, Taashath’s breath slowly returning to normal. “Why are you still wearing your trousers?” she asked with a frown. The fingers of one hand sliding over the waistband.

“Are you...sure?”

Taashath peered up at him. “Are you?” He kissed her firmly on the mouth, then climbed off the bed, stripped out of his pants before crawling over her and settling between her thighs.

The hard length of him trapped between their stomachs as he braced his weight on one elbow beside her head. “What do you think?”

Taashath slowly drew one leg up and curled her thigh around his hip, while her hands rested on either side of his waist. “I think...” she trailed off. “I think I figured it out.” The nervous energy she’d felt earlier had all faded because this was Cullen. He loved her, and he always had. Maybe it hadn’t always been _this_ kind of love. But it was love nonetheless. He had recognized it because he’d felt love before, for his mother and father, his siblings. Talon.

But Taashath had never had it before. No parents, no siblings. No one her cared about her at all before Cullen.

“Figured out what, darling?”

Her heart felt so full, she thought it might overflow from her chest. “I love you,” she said it, and tears burned her eyes. “I love you.”

Cullen cupped her face, stared into her eyes and she saw all the emotions she felt reflected in his gaze. “Andraste,” he breathed.

“Make love with me, Cullen,” she shifted her leg higher and Cullen groaned. He claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss. His hand slid down her side, then between them. He took himself in hand and shifted his hips back, rubbed the head of his cock over her wet folds.

His breath hitched this time. “I love you,” he breathed. “My darling, my Taasha.” He entered her, painstakingly slow. The stretch as he filled her was more than she’d anticipated and it felt amazing. Taashath watched his face, the furrowed brow as he seemed to be concentrating so hard. A quiet sound escaped her lips and his eyes flew open. “Alright?”

Planting one foot on the bed, the other leg still curled around his waist she lifted her hips up, eager to meet his. “Yes,” she gasped out at the same moment Cullen groaned. It took all his restraint not to drive into her, to pound her hips into the mattress until she screamed her pleasure. She would, he’d see to it, but next time. He withdrew slowly, ducked his head down to kiss her as he pushed in again. Her fingers dug into his back and she moaned softly against his lips. He kept the pace slow, steady, until she was gasping against his mouth, soft pleas spilling past her lips.

Taashath canted her hips against his and he groaned, cupped the curve of her bottom and angled her hips just so as he began to move faster. He watched her face, watched the pleasure play across it. His name became a mantra on her lips and he felt his own end rapidly approaching. “Stroke your clit for me, love,” he rasped. Next time, he thought, he’d have her ride him, so he could tease her breasts, thumb her clit.

She scraped her nails along his side as she dragged her hand down and he groaned, then he felt her fingers dip between them, lower, slide along his cock as he thrust into her again and again. “Maker,” he choked out. “Taasha, love, please.” She moved her fingers away from his cock and he felt the brush of her knuckles on his stomach as she began to stroke her clit. Quick movements that had the wet slide of her core growing slicker. He cursed softly. He would not come before her. “Come for me, Taasha, darling, love, fuck.”

That was the last straw. Taashath made a quiet sound, her fingers spasming against her clit before she pressed harder, circled faster and finally cried out, her core clenching tight around his cock. Cullen’s movements stuttered, then he drove himself as deep as he could, choked out her name as he spilled himself inside her.

Cullen couldn’t move for a long time, he lay over her, his head on her breast, his half-hard cock still buried inside of her pulsing core. Her heart beat out a rapid tattoo that matched his own. One of her hands splayed over his back, the other stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. “That was...” she broke off, still trying to regain her breath.

He lifted his head, a struggle that it was, to look into her eyes. “Yes?”

“I’ll uh let you know when I know what words are again.” Chuckling he shifted up to press a kiss to her lips, then groaned as his cock slid from her sheath. She made a quiet sound and tightened her leg around his waist. “We can do that again, right?”

Cullen let out another low laugh and claimed her mouth once again. “Give me some time to recover, but yes, love. Yes. Every night. Every morning. Every single day for as long as you like.”

“For forever,” she murmured against his lips.

“Forever,” he murmured back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~apologies if the smut was disappointing. Writing these last few chapters I felt as if I suddenly forgot how to make words and write anything remotely decent.~~


	42. Chapter 42

Taashath woke well before the sun began to creep into the room, Cullen’s head pillowed on her bare breasts, a hand possessively curled around her hip. _He loves me_. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Never in her life had she ever thought someone would care for her in such a way. Absently, she stroked the fingers of one hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, her other hand rested on his bicep. _I love him_. So much it made her heart ache.

The night before had been truly amazing. Her body still seemed to tremble from the pleasure unlike any she’d ever felt before. Taasha lay there, thinking about how completely different her life could have been. If she had never become Saarebas, she would have been Tamassran, not wholly terrible, she would have enjoyed the little ones. Or would she have? No, there would have been no joy in that. No joy in the Qun.

How many times could she – should she – have died in Kirkwall? At least half a dozen. What if the Inquisition hadn’t gone to Haven? She might never have seen Cullen again because she certainly wouldn’t have sought him out – too worried that he hated her.

“Love,” he mumbled in his sleep as if reading her thoughts.

“I love you,” she murmured pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Cullen stirred, turned his head, his mouth grazing Taasha’s nipple. Her breath caught and he stilled for a moment, slowly lifting his head. Taasha’s heart kicked in her chest. _He regrets it_. The terrifying thought made it hard to breathe.

“Good morning, my love,” everything about his face softened and he moved up to brush a kiss over her mouth. “Did you sleep alright?” Cullen stretched out beside her and tugged her close until his chin rested on the top of her head and her face pressed against his throat.

How many mornings had they laid just like this before? The only obvious difference was their state of undress. She hummed quietly, “no bad dreams.”

“Did you have many while I was away?”

Taasha didn’t want to admit it, but she and Cullen were honest with each other, especially about this. “Some, that man from the ball, the stupid auction. It shouldn’t matter, he is dead, and you saved me like you always do.”

Cullen wrapped her hair around his fist and tilted her head back to look at her. “I didn’t kill him. I thought about it and if he’d hurt you I might have beaten him senseless, but I didn’t -”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I know, you never left my side. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” there was a fierce look of determination on his face. “Chances are, whoever set up the auction is the one who killed him.”

“Oh,” a breath of sound at the realization. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Taashath very much did not like the idea.

“Leliana will figure out who was behind it,” he reassured her, arms tightening around her. “You’re safe. I won’t lose you.”

Surely, one person couldn’t hold so much love in their chest, could they? Taasha was certain her chest would explode. Love would be everywhere. Scattered around the room with silly little hearts and frilly bows. The idea made her laugh quietly and she pressed her face into his throat gain.

“What?” Cullen asked, amusement tingeing his voice as he rubbed his cheek against the top of her head.

“I love you,” she told him.

“And that is funny?”

“I just… I’ve never felt so much before. I was thinking I might explode and there would be hearts and bows, maybe little birds happily chirping on every surface.”

Cullen chuckled quietly. “They would meet a tragic demise at the paw of Parrot.” Nudging her onto her back, he propped his weight on his elbow and looked down at her. “You’re happy?”

Taasha slid her foot over Cullen’s calf and drew her legs up so she could cradle his hips between her thighs, her hands ran along his sides and chest up to rest on either side of his face. “I’m happy.” He kissed her slow and languorously. Hands slid over flesh as if they had all the time in the world. And they did.

Sliding his hand down to her hip, Cullen held her lower body against his as he rolled them, earning a slightly startled gasp out of Taasha. “What are-”

“I want you over me this time.”

“But I’m-” she broke off when his lips curled around her breast. Her body seemed to take on a mind of its own, her hips rocking against Cullen’s as fire built in her veins.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbled, then made quick work of shoving the pillows behind his back so he lay half propped up, offering him the perfect vantage point. Cullen nudged her back, so she sat up and her hands flapped uselessly at her sides before she started to wrap them around herself, trying to hide. “Love,” he caught her hands, drew them away.

Taasha made a quiet sound, glancing up to the massive hole in the ceiling that was letting in every bit of light. It had been different last night, the candles burning low, cast everything in soft shadows. But the sun was blazing bright and she imagined every flaw stood in stark relief. Angling her head to hide the scarred side of her face she squeezed his hand. “It’s so bright out-”

Cullen growled. There was no other word for it. He cupped her face with his big hands, held it gently and forced her to turn her head to face him, to meet his gaze. “I love you,” he said, then leaned in and brushed a feather light kiss over the scars on her cheeks.

“I know, but-”

“No _buts_ , Taasha.” Cullen took one of her hands, placed it over the scar on his side. It was a nasty one, a mess of scar tissue that pulled skin taught. “Do my scars bother you?”

She shook her head quickly. “Of course not! But-”

“I said no _buts_. If my scars don’t bother you, why in the name of the Maker, would you think that your scars bother me? I hate that you have them. I hate that you suffered. But I love every inch of you, my Darling.”

She seemed to wage a silent war with herself for several heartbeats, before giving up. Taashath leaned forward and claimed Cullen’s lips with hers and he groaned. A hand slid along her thighs, up to slide through the dark silver curls at the apex. He teased her with his fingertips and she rocked against him. Cullen’s cock throbbed, more than ready to slip inside. To fill her and lay that claim to her.

The image of her holding Miri’s baby, filled his mind and he thought of her belly growing with their own child. A discussion for later. Cullen tilted his face up to look at her, found her eyes closed, her teeth sunk into her lower lip while she rocked against his hand. “Come here, love,” he murmured, one hand resting on the curve of her hip while the other wrapped around the base of his cock.

Taashath’s eyes flew open and she stared at him as the head of his cock slipped between her wet folds. “Oh,” it was a quiet breath.

“Okay?” She nodded her head quickly and Cullen let her move at her own pace, though he was desperate to thrust his hips up, bury himself in the heat of her.

“Oh, that feels-” Taashath’s head fell back and Cullen slid his hand up her belly to cup her breast as she sunk down all the way, her rear resting on his thighs, taking him all the way to the hilt. This was exactly the reason he’d wanted her like this. So he could explore her with his hands and mouth while she took her pleasure. His hand slid from her hip inward, through her curls to brush his thumb over her clit. “Oh!” she gasped and then after a moment, she braced one hand behind her on his knee as she began to rock her hips. So slowly at first as she figured out the rhythm, and the roll of her hips against his.

Cullen felt torn, his eyes darting from the way her breasts swayed as she moved, to where they joined, watching his cock, slick with her juices, spreading her with each thrust of her hips. There was a knock on one of his office doors and Cullen cursed, Taashath’s face fell and he cursed again. “No,” he bit out, sitting up and banding his arms around her waist. Whoever had knocked would face his wrath, but later. Much later. “I’m not done with you. No interruptions, not yet. The rest of the world can wait.”

Taashath curled her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, almost desperately now. “Cull-Cull-” quiet gasping as she pressed her face against his shoulder. “Almost, so close-” His thumb flicked over her clit again and again. Nails scraping against his back, she cried out, softly and Cullen groaned, his hands gripping her hips with near bruising force, holding her still so he could drive into her harder.

He heard her breath catch, felt her tremble against him as she went over that edge and he followed immediately, his cock pulsing inside her as he spilled himself.

Taashath lay sprawled over Cullen, her cheek on his chest as she basked in the pleasure coursing through her body. One hand traced shapes on her back, while the other held one of hers to his lips where he pressed soft kisses on her knuckles. The day had dawned and she knew they needed to get up, to do things. Though she wasn’t sure what she would do, Cullen had troops to train.

“I need to tell you something and I don’t relish the thought,” Cullen said after a while.

“That sounds ominous,” Taashath lifted her head, frowning down at Cullen.

He cupped her cheek and sighed. “Evelyn came onto me at the Shrine of Dumat. Offered to let me… fuck her. When I declined she got on her knees, offered her mouth.” A beat passed and Taashath’s throat felt like it was closing up. “I told her to leave and she did, but- I am unsure how to handle the situation.”

“Blackwall,” she whispered and Cullen nodded. “He needs to know.” He cared about Evelyn, a great deal. The idea that she had made a move on Cullen, she imagined that would hurt, but letting him believe that Evelyn was being faithful wasn’t the right course of action.

“I was afraid you were going to say that, but I agree. I’ll tell him.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Cullen gave his head a little shake. “No, no, darling. I think this is something just he and I should bear witness to.”


	43. Chapter 43

Blackwall was certain he was growing soft. In body and in mind. Though he’d been sparring with the Inquisition’s soldiers nearly every morning, it wasn’t the same as going out and fighting. Evelyn’s outright refusal to allow him to accompany her was a blow to his pride. So he stayed behind and honed the skill that had always simply been something to keep his hands busy when he couldn’t fight. He’d carved simple dolls for the children, little figures with painted on clothes.

The tiny bird, with its wings spread wide sat on the edge of the worktable. A gift for Evie. He worried about her. Her headaches still persisted, and the moments she claimed to not remember haunted her. Blackwall shifted his attention back to the half-finished rocking toy, fashioned to look like a griffon. Maybe for Miri, the woman from the kitchens who had just had a little girl.

The sound of someone clearing their throat had him looking up. Cullen stood just inside the barn entrance, looking anxious. “Commander,” Blackwall inclined his head. “I saw Taashath this morning, she looked...” he trailed off. She’d been beaming. Practically floating. Blackwall had seen the two come down the stone steps into the courtyard. Cullen had tugged Taasha to a stop and kissed her, for all of Skyhold to see.

Blackwall knew well enough that kind of love wasn’t for him, but he’d still felt an ache in his chest. He didn’t deserve it, Maker knew, but he thought of kissing Evelyn on the dais, in front of the haughty Orlesian nobles and their friends. “She looked happy,” he finally finished.

Cullen smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, well, I hope she is.” He reached up, rubbed the back of his neck and let out a loud breath. “I don’t know how to start. I should have let her come, she would have been better at this.”

Blackwall’s brows shot up. “Better at what?” he asked cautiously. Had Evelyn been hurt? Killed out in some battle against a rift?

“At the Shrine of Dumat. Evelyn came to my tent and offered herself to me. I refused. But I thought, and Taasha agreed, you needed to know,” Cullen said the words, not quite in a rush, but he didn’t pause for breath either. He stood there, waiting. As if he expected Blackwall to launch himself across the barn at him and beat him senseless.

_Offered herself to me_.

They had made it clear that it was just sex, hadn’t they? When this all began. They both knew where they stood. There could be no future for them. Blackwall stared at the tiny bird and that aching in his chest grew wider. He’d never deserved her anyway. “Thank you,” Blackwall said inclining his head.

Cullen didn’t move, then after a moment, he stepped forward. “I’m sorry, I- I’ve never seen her like that before. It was as if…” he trailed off. “Evelyn may be brusque and slow to warm up to anyone. But it was, from what I’ve seen, very unlike her.”

Blackwall waved his hand, picked up his tools and focused his attention back on the griffon head. “I’m not her keeper. I appreciate you letting me know. But I’m well aware that I was just a passing fancy. Someone to scratch the itch when she got bored.” He began chipping away at the wood, willing Cullen to leave.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Cullen turned and left the barn. It shouldn’t hurt so much, Blackwall thought. _You deserve this_ , he thought. _Every pain. Any suffering. You deserve it_.

 

Taashath had taken up a spot on the floor of Miri’s small house, Brisa lay on her back, cooing and kicking her chubby little legs, in front of her. “Who is the most perfect little girl in all of Thedas?” Taasha leaned down, blew a raspberry on the girl’s belly, causing her to shriek with laughter and tiny fists wrapped around Taasha’s long hair.

“You’re spoiling her,” Miri said with a smile in her voice from the little kitchen off the main room, where she had a small washtub set up and was scrubbing a pile of clothes.

“That is my job,” Taasha said, peppering kisses all over Brisa’s face. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re in an awfully good mood today,” Miri commented. “I take it your talk with the Commander went well?”

Heat flooded Taashath’s cheeks and she darted a glance at Miri before looking back at the baby. “He loves me,” she said quietly.

“I knew that,” Miri said and Taashath huffed out a breath before carefully scooping Brisa up in her arms and getting to her feet. 

“Apparently, so did everyone else in Skyhold.”

“Since Haven,” Miri smiled.

“I love him,” Tasha murmured, stroking her finger along Brisa’s cheek. “I never… it isn’t a thing in the Qun. Love doesn’t exist, and definitely not for a Saarebas. Just dangerous things that we are. I never imagined...” warmth coiled low in her belly remembering the way he touched her, with his hands and his mouth.

“You’ll need to start taking the Witherstalk and Dragonthorn,” Miri commented. “Or you’ll end up with a little one too,” she said with a nod to Brisa.

“Oh!” Taashath hadn’t considered that. “Yes, of course. I’m not sure if I could even-” she broke off. “Besides, I’m sure Cullen doesn’t want… that.”

“You’re sure?” Miri asked, her voice almost sympathetic.

Taasha shook her head. “No, I’m actually not.” She hadn’t given thought to children, not really. As a Tamassran it would have been her duty, to see to them, raise them, maybe even give birth to them. And she most definitely had no idea if children were something Cullen wanted. “I’ll talk to him.”

She stayed at Miri’s for a while longer, giving her all the time she needed to take care of things around the house without having to worry about Brisa. Then she headed back to Skyhold, unsure of what she would do to keep herself busy. Taasha considered going to see Blackwall, but she knew that Cullen was going to speak with him today, and she wasn’t sure the man would want any company. Spotting Cullen in the courtyard her steps faltered. He was sparring with a soldier. Without a shirt.

She’d seen his bare chest. Touched it. Kissed it now. But she still stumbled over her own two feet seeing him standing there. Sweat glistened on his back as he barked orders at the soldier, swung the sword that the man blocked, but only just. Cullen turned his head, seemed to catch sight of her. The other man swung, Cullen blocked it easily, then after a few short words sent him off.

He strode to where she stood on the other side of the sparring circle and Taasha rested her elbows on the wooden fence. “Hello, my darling,” he murmured, fingers curling under her chin he kissed her. Where all the soldiers could see. Where anyone passing by could see.

Taasha hummed quietly, her fingers reaching out to skim over a scar on his left pec. “Hello,” she echoed back. “Is everything alright? You seem… tense?”

Cullen shook his head a little. “It’s nothing. I’m not.” he let out a breath and set his sword and shield down before taking Taasha’s hands and bringing them to his lips. “I spoke with Blackwall earlier.”

“And?”

“He… didn’t throw any punches. Honestly, I think I would have preferred if he had. But he simply thanked me as if I had come to tell him the weather.”

Taashath knew that Blackwall cared about Evelyn, he’d told her as much. Maybe he wouldn’t admit to loving her, maybe he didn’t know he loved her, but he had to be hurting. “I’ll speak with him.”

Cullen made a quiet sound, then reached up to finger a lock of her loose hair. “There is something I wanted to discuss with you though, a few things, but, this one is important.” She raised her brows. “You’ve said you don’t feel like you’re doing enough here. The tavern is taken care of and the kitchens are fully staffed, even with Miri out having just had the baby. You do, though, you know? You do so much, everyone is so grateful for you. I’m so grateful for you.

“But that wasn’t my point,” he continued. “I had an idea. I’ve been thinking about it all day. You miss your tavern. I know how much you loved that place because it was yours and yours alone. What if… there is space still, a nice empty lot in the village,” Taasha was shaking her head, but Cullen cupped her face. “Listen to me. Not another tavern. A bakery.” She went still. “A little bakery where you could make your breads and those pies you love to bake. Whatever else you may want. Sell them or give them away as you please.”

A place of her own. She had loved that part of the tavern the best. “But-”

“There are plenty of people who would chip in and help build the building. Just like you helped all of them. It wouldn’t take much. I want you to be happy, love. What do you think? Is that something you might want?”

Tears overflowed and rolled down her cheeks and she jerked her head in a quick nod and Cullen kissed her so sweetly. Excitement flooded her veins at the idea of having something that was hers again. A place where she belonged.

“Are you certain?” he teased and she swatted his shoulder before she nodded again.

“Yes,” tears choked off the word and she said it again. “Yes!” it was half sob, half laugh and he kissed her again.

Cullen grinned against her lips, then rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “Good.” They stood there for a moment and Cullen seemed to realize the silence that had fallen around them. The clang of swords and shouts of the soldiers sparring had gone quiet. Turning, he saw everyone had stopped to stare. Taashath ducked her head and Cullen shouted at them to get back to training. “Or you’ll all be running laps around Skyhold until dawn!”

They all immediately went back to sparring and Cullen caught Taasha’s hand as she started to step away. He kissed her knuckles. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “Love you.” Then she picked her way across the courtyard and down toward the barn. If Blackwall wanted to talk, she wanted him to know she was there for him. If he didn’t want to talk? Well, she would be there for him then too. He was good with his hands, maybe he’d want to help build the bakery?

In the barn, Blackwall stood in front of the work table, and it looked as if he’d made a great deal of progress on the rocking toy he’d been working on here and there for the last few weeks. Taasha walked over and sat on the stairs that lead up to the loft behind the table. Blackwall offered her a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m here, you know?” she asked.

He gave a jerky nod of his head and held out the small carving knife and a piece of wood. She took it and slowly began trying to work it into some shape. Blackwall didn’t say a word as they worked and Taashath’s heart ached for him.


	44. Chapter 44

Once Cullen had come up with the plan for the bakery, it took no time at all for things to begin to fall into motion. The framework of the building had already begun to go up as nearly the whole of Skyhold came to pitch in. Taashath had burst into tears at the sight of it. “I told you,” Cullen said gently, hugging her close. “You belong here.”

It was mid-afternoon and she stood beside Cullen as they stared down at the sketches of the plan for the bakery. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “This will be the oven here,” he said pointing to one of the side walls. “A counter, and it’s open out here, for a few tables, if you want.”

“Cullen,” Taasha covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “It is perfect.” He squeezed her hand back and she let go, began tracing her fingers over the outlines. “Can it have a window? Here? How big can it be?” Light. She wanted the place to be flooded with light.

“Yes, as big as you like,” he said and she laughed softly. She could ask for the moons and he’d promise to give them to her. His hand moved and she heard something clatter to the floor. Cullen cursed softly and she saw him crouch down out of the corner of her eye. But she was so caught up in the sketch she barely paid him any attention. Hers. It was all hers. And so was Cullen.

The pressure of his hand on the back of her calf pulled at her attention, but she stood still, waiting. Slowly it slid up, dipping under the hem of the simple dress she wore, leather covered fingers skimmed the back of her knee. Taashath glanced down at the top of his golden head and held her breath. Up, and up his fingers glided, a barely-there touch that made her feel weak in the knees and had her splaying her hands out on the top of the desk to steady herself. “Cullen?” her voice wavered.

“Do you remember when I undressed you after the ball at the Winter Palace?”

A silly question. “Yes.”

“Those stockings and that garter, the silky gold fabric,” he trailed his hand higher, fingertips tracing an invisible edge. “I kept them. I wanted you then. I wanted to tell you how I felt and I wanted to make love to you, feel your legs, clad in those silk stockings, wrapped around my waist as I drove into you again and again.”

“Cullen!” it was a quiet gasp. How different that night might have been had he told her sooner. “I’ll wear them, Andraste’s tits, I’ll wear anything you like,” she found herself promising as his fingers grazed the edge of her smalls. “Just don’t stop,” she begged quietly. It was the middle of the day. They both had things they should be doing. But at that moment, she didn’t care.

Cullen let out a low chuckle and tugged Taashath away from the desk. She started to protest, knowing her legs would give out if he kept that up. But he nudged her into the chair behind his desk and she collapsed into it, quite ungracefully. “Cull-” His hands slid under her skirt, gripped her hips and tugged her forward, so she barely balanced on the edge of the chair and then he put his mouth on her. Tongued her through the thin, already soaked fabric of her smalls.

A soft cry escaped her and the fingers of one hand slid into his hair, while the other pressed over her lips, trying to stifle the desperate sounds escaping them. It didn’t take long for the teasing of his tongue while his fingers traced little patterns along her thighs, to have her teetering on the edge of bliss.

A sound. Footsteps. “Commander,” a voice said as one of the doors opened.

Taashath sat up abruptly and Cullen froze where he knelt, his mouth still covering her.

“Oh,” the soldier paused. “My lady,” he inclined his head to Taashath. She couldn’t breathe.

“Did you-” her voice caught when she felt Cullen’s tongue shift, pushing aside her smalls to slide wetly over her lower lips. “Need something?” she heard the strain in her own voice and sent up a silent prayer that this man did not, while she curled her fingers tighter in Cullen’s hair. _The bastard_. She felt his smirk against his skin before a finger joined his tongue and pushed inside.

“I was looking for the Commander, I have a missive for him from Knight-Captain Rylen.”

“You… just missed him.” A second finger joined the first and she tugged on his hair. Cullen was not discouraged. He turned his head, nipped her thigh and she bit down hard on her tongue to keep from crying out. “I believe he said he was going-” His tongue pressed against her clit and blood was rushing in her ears. _Cullen would pay for this. Somehow._ “Leliana,” she finally managed to get out. “I think he went to speak with Leliana.” She jerked her chin. “You can just leave that on the desk. I’ll see that he-he gets it.”

The soldier came closer and Taashath regretted the order. What if he saw Cullen? Granted the man had wedged himself mostly under the desk, and her skirt concealed him well. But there was no way anyone could look at her and not see the massive presence between her thighs. He set the paper on the edge of the desk and nodded to the plans for the bakery. “I haven’t had the chance to be out and help work on your new bakery yet, but I’m looking forward to it. You helped all of us so much. I’m glad that the Commander finally worked up the nerve to admit his feelings for you.”

Cullen went still between her thighs and Taashath’s tight grip on his hair loosened and she began stroking his hair gently. “You won the betting pool, didn’t you?”

The young man’s cheeks flushed and he ducked his head. “Does the Commander know about that? Of course, he does. Could you… maybe not tell him I won? I don’t think that would do me any favors… I’ll help out at the bakery, haul wood, do anything you need, just please-”

“I won’t tell him,” Taashath said with a quiet laugh. “Go on, thank you for the message.” The second the door snicked shut, Cullen redoubled his efforts and Taasha collapsed against the back of the chair once again, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out. She murmured his name, almost there, so close to- he pulled away abruptly.

Tears pricked her eyes and she gasped softly. “What-” she watched as Cullen stood up, kissed her, hard, his tongue sliding past her surprised lips. Taasha could taste herself on his mouth. He stalked across the room, flipped the locks on all the doors before coming back and tugging her up to her feet. Her legs felt wobbly, but Cullen picked her up, much to her surprise and set her on the desk. “What-” she tried again, but he cut her off, claiming her mouth again in a demanding kiss.

Cullen pushed the skirt up to her hips, tugged her close and she clung to his shoulders. He filled her. One smooth thrust of his hips and he was buried in the heat of her and the pleasure that had been buzzing in her veins turned to flames. Taashath couldn’t breathe and she didn’t care. Who needed breath when Cullen held her like this? There was something about them being fully clothed, the soft rattle of his armor that reached her ears with each thrust of his hips, that made every sensation more intense.

He tore his mouth away, latched onto her throat and her head fell back. “Cullen,” it was a soft cry as the driving tempo of his hips pushed her over. He bucked his hips, hard, filling her to the hilt.

“Taasha, darling, love,” it was a choked whisper, his fingers on her hips almost bruising as his cock pulsed and throbbed inside of her. The warm flood had her inner walls clenching. _Witherstalk and dragon thorn_.

It seemed a long time before Cullen moved, his arms had slid around her waist and he clung to her, his face buried against her throat. Taasha held him, her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Finally, he began to withdraw. He lifted his head and she smiled up at him. There was a knock on the door, finally pulling Cullen away. He righted his breeches before crossing the room to the door, while Taasha slid off the desk and tugged her dress back into place.

“What is it?” Cullen asked, opening the door just a few inches.

“Commander,” the voice on the other side, and she heard a rustle of paper. “The Inquisitor is on her way back to Skyhold. She and her companions should arrive in the next few days.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said, closing the door and turning back to face Taasha.

“I am sure you have work to do,” she said, walking around the desk and across the room to stand in front of him. “I should get back out to the bakery, but I’ll let Blackwall know first,” she told him.

Cullen reached up and cupped her face, his thumb rubbing along her lower lip. “I love you, my darling.”

“And I, you. Everything will be okay,” she told him because she wanted it to be so. Desperately. Taasha wanted Evelyn’s actions to be a misunderstanding. Something, anything other than the woman having no consideration for the people who cared about her. It was true, Evelyn wasn’t kind. She was a bitch and Taashath would be the first to say so. But she wasn’t cruel.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair Warning: Things get dark in the coming chapters.

Evelyn and her companions had returned to Skyhold early that afternoon. Blackwall hadn’t seen her. Usually, she sought him out, but this time, she disappeared. _Because she is done with you_. He rubbed his jaw and picked up the tiny bird he’d carved for her. If it was over, then it was over. He should just let it go. Let her go. He would. What other choice did he have?

Blackwall drew in a breath and headed for her quarters. The door was locked but he made quick work of jimmying it open and silently climbed the stairs. He heard her voice, quiet and angry and he stilled as he reached the top of the stairs. She knelt in a small tub, her back to him, and even despite the heat of the room from the roaring fire, he could see the steam coming off the water.

A broken sound reached his ears, a quiet sob. She held a stiff bristled brush in her hand and was scrubbing her skin raw. “Evelyn,” he said sharply and she flinched, whirling around.

“What are you doing here?! Get out! Leave! I-” her voice cracked and she ducked her head, going back to scrubbing. “Just leave.”

She had marks on her skin. Dark hickeys on her breasts and throat. What looked to be teeth marks on the back of her shoulder. A strange rage filled him. A cold and calculated murderous rage. “Who did this to you?” he asked and she shook her head. One of the marks was so new it may have only happened a few hours ago.

Evelyn shook her head, scrubbing and scrubbing until Blackwall saw blood well up on her breast and he wrenched the brush from her hands. “No!” she cried out and then he was yanking her out of the tub. The water was scalding, her skin, the deep olive tone of it now a deep red. “No! I’m- I can’t get clean! I’m not done!” she struck out, arms flailing, but Blackwall easily overpowered her.

He cursed and then he spotted the four empty tonic bottles sitting not far away. He recognized their small shape and size as the ones she took to prevent pregnancy. Dread filled his belly and he shook her, hard. “Did you take all of those!?” he barked. Taken in small doses it prevented pregnancy, but large quantities could easily kill a person.

The low keening sound she made broke his heart in two as she still struggled against him. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep them down. I threw up each one!” She got one hand free when he reached for the towel and she slapped him hard across the face. “Let me go!”

“That is enough,” he barked at her, wrapping the towel around her, effectively securing her arms at her sides. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her knees gave out. Blackwall caught her up against his chest and carried her to the bed where he sat down on the edge and held her on his lap. “Tell me who hurt you,” he said and she sobbed, hanging her head low and turning her face away.

“Just let me go, let me-”

“Evie,” he spoke softly and it seemed to break her even more. Her entire body shook with the quiet wailing and Blackwall wrapped his arms around her, held her tightly as she fell apart. The minutes seemed to last a lifetime. The only sound in the room were the broken sounds coming from Evelyn and the sound of the flames popping and crackling in the fireplace. “Tell me,” he murmured. “Who hurt you? Was it one of the soldiers?”

Evelyn shook her head. “No, I don’t-” she shoved at him and this time Blackwall let her retreat. She clutched the towel to her chest and spread her hand over one of the marks on her throat. “I don’t know. I don’t-” she paced away from him then turned and sunk down to her knees on the wooden floor. “I don’t remember. I- I remember being at the Winter Palace, seeing Taasha in her dress, oh, by the Maker, she was so beautiful, you should have seen her, Blackwall,” her voice cracked. “And then… then I was in the hallway by the kitchen, with some soldier-” Her hands came up to cover her face. “What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? I don’t want-”

Blackwall stood and surveyed the contents of one of her packs, found the small bag of healing supplies before he sunk down onto his knees in front of her. “Do you remember your conversation with the Commander?” he asked, tugging away the towel at her back.

“What conversation?” her voice was hoarse.

“When you offered to let him fuck you?”

She flinched, whirled around and stared at him in horror. “No! I did not! NO!” Evelyn shook her head frantic, scrambling to her feet. “No! Oh, oh, Maker, Taasha… she’ll-she’ll hate me! She’s the only person that likes me! I can’t...” Her hands covered her face again and he thought she was more upset by that than the idea of a stranger pinning her to a wall and fucking her.

“What is wrong with me!?” She kicked the wooden tub, then cried out in pain but it only seemed to enrage her more. Swooping down she grabbed the scrub brush and lobbed it across the room, but it wasn’t enough. Some pretty crystal decoration, a gift from some Orlesian, was the next to go. It crashed into the stone fireplace, shattering into a cloud of fine powder. “Why am I like this!”

The towel had fallen away and she stood, chest heaving as she stared at Blackwall, where he still knelt on the floor. “Love,” he said softly, getting to his feet.

Evelyn held her hands up as if to ward off the word. “No, don’t-” her voice cracked. “I’m not...I’ve never been a good person,” she told him. “But I-” she pressed her hand to her face, one hand covering her eye. “Fuck!” Pain exploded behind her eye and she staggered.

Blackwall caught her before she fell and held her gently against his chest. She didn’t resist and slid her arms around his shoulders. “What is happening to me?” she whispered. “Why am I like this?” He carried her to the bed and sat her down on the edge before he set to work applying a healing salve to each of the marks on her body. Something wet dripped onto his hand and he looked up, saw the tears rolling down her cheeks unchecked. “Why are you being nice to me?”

He finished his task, wiped his fingers clean of the residue of the salve on his pants before wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked her, getting up from where he knelt, Blackwall padded across the room to her dresser, found her nightgown and crossed back to her.

“Because I’m a whore,” her voice cracked and she was staring down hard at her hands. “I should have died at the Conclave. This mark wasn’t meant for me. Alex… he would be so ashamed of me.”

The words stopped him in his tracks for a moment, but he continued on, tugging the gown over her head before he tugged the blankets down and scooped Evelyn into his arms and deposited her under them. Blackwall went to the fireplace, banked the flames and then crossed back to her. He took off his boots and climbed onto the bed, on top of the blankets and tugged her into his side. “I don’t care if you fucked the entirety of the Inquisition’s soldiers, you’re not a whore.”

She made a quiet sound, disbelieving. “I probably did.”

He tightened his arms around her and she burrowed into his side, her cheek resting on his chest, her hand splayed out over his heart. “You didn’t die at the Conclave for a reason,” he continued gently. “You wear that mark for a reason. As for Alex,” he paused. Evelyn never spoke of him. He knew she’d been married, had a child and they’d both been killed in Kirkwall, but beyond that, she refused to speak of them.

“He was a good man. He was so sweet and kind and I don’t know why he ever married me.”

“Because he loved you,” Blackwall offered.

“He’d hate me if he could see me now,” a quiet sob escaped her and Blackwall palmed the back of her head, wished he could make all her pains go away. Eventually, the sobbing subsided, and she lay so quiet and still he was sure she’d fallen asleep. He stared up at the ceiling, mind running through all the possibilities of what could be causing the headaches and the memory lapses. Nothing came to mind. Blackwall tilted his head down, pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

 

Taashath lay sprawled on her stomach on the bed in Cullen’s loft. Though, she supposed, did that mean it was their loft now? She still had her room, though it stood mostly empty now. The chair and the books had been moved to Cullen’s office, her clothes were now tucked away beside Cullen’s in the large dresser. Parrot purred as he lay curled up on her lower back. It felt nice. Her body ached from the last few days work finishing up getting the bakery ready. Today had been her first morning there, arriving well before the sun rose, much to Cullen’s disappointment when she’d slipped from bed.

She realized she must have dozed off when she opened her eyes again and the room was dark. A quiet sound reached her ears and she felt the bed shift near her feet. “You’re in my spot, cat.” The weight of Parrot on her lower back vanished, and she felt Cullen push up the hem of her shirt and press a kiss to the small of her back before he continued up, leaving a trail of kisses along her spine.

A quiet humming sound left her throat. Contentment. She loved this man so much, her heart ached with it. “You slept through dinner,” he murmured nuzzling her hair out of the way to kiss the back of her neck. “How was your first day in the bakery?” he asked, then sat up, his weight shifting to rest on the backs of her thighs.

Cullen nudged her shirt up again, bare hands on her back, gently massaging the aching muscles. She moaned. She couldn’t help it. The sound just escaped. “That feels...” she hummed again, heard him chuckle. “It was good. I burned a batch of cookies. The top of a loaf of bread,” she told him. “The oven is different, but I figured it out.”

“Any pie?”

Her lips curved up into a smile. “Not yet. A few of the people from Skyhold gave me recipes they had, for different things, a few different kinds of bread and other treats.” Cullen continued kneading the sore muscles of Taashath’s back and she felt herself relaxing even more. “You should come by tomorrow. Maybe I’ll have something for you.” Cullen stilled for a moment, then ducked down and kissed the center of her back.

“Anything you want, my darling.” He continued his ministrations for a time and Taasha lay there, listening to his steady breathing, the rasp of his palms on her flesh. “You’re exhausted, I should let you go back to sleep, I have some work to do besides. If you’re hungry I’ll go get you something to eat.”

Taashath’s hand shot out, curling around his thigh. “Don’t go,” she murmured, turning her head to peer at him over her shoulder. Her gold eyes flashed in the dark and Cullen leaned back over her, resting his fists on either side of her shoulders before ducking his head down to claim her lips in a soft kiss. Her hips lifted, the curve of her bottom pressing against the now rapidly growing bulge in the front of Cullen’s trousers.  
“You’re sure?” he asked and she shot him a look that made him smile. “You’re tired, love, you had a busy day-” he broke off when Taashath’s hand shifted, cupping him and gently squeezing. “Okay, alright,” his voice came out hoarse. “Whatever my lady wants. But only if you allow me to do all the work. I don’t want you to move from that spot right there.”

“Yes, sir, Commander, sir,” she murmured and Cullen nipped the tip of her ear, causing her to laugh quietly. Then he was moving down her body, stripping her of her boots, then her trousers and smalls. She had to sit up for him to tug her shirt off, but he immediately nudged her back onto her belly. He stripped out of his own clothes and stretched back over her, his hand curling around her waist and down to dip between her thighs.

Cullen teased her with his fingers, letting the pleasure build, while he peppered kisses all over her back. Explored the map of small scars that littered her skin. When Taashath’s breathing began to hitch, and her slick dripped over his fingers, he pushed inside. The position limited their movement, but the feel of her body was like coming home. “I love you,” he breathed and she slid her hand up and back to slide her fingers into his hair as he pressed soft sucking kisses to the side of her neck. “Taasha, my darling.”

“Kadan,” she breathed out in reply.

_Forever_ , he thought. This. Her. He wanted it forever. And he would allow nothing to stand in the way of that.


	46. Chapter 46

Come the next morning, Blackwall felt as if he hadn’t slept, and was wary of leaving Evelyn alone. She had promised not to leave her quarters, but judging from the fact that she claimed to not remember months at a time, the promise meant little. He rubbed his jaw as he made his way through Skyhold toward the village. _The dream_ , Maker’s balls the dream had been disturbing, to say the least. Evelyn, but it wasn’t Evelyn, not really, had taunted him.

_Evelyn had been hesitant, despite knowing something was wrong. “They all hate me. They don’t care,” she muttered._

“ _That isn’t true,” Blackwall told her, tugging her close so he could kiss the top of her head. “But something is wrong, love. Maybe a healer-”_

_She shook her head, adamant in her refusal. “No. I won’t.”_

“ _Evelyn,” he said her name with a sigh. “Taashath,” he suggested. The woman was a mage, though he didn’t think she had any healing abilities, he knew that Evelyn had confided in her before. Besides, Taashath was handy with potions and tonics._

_Evelyn’s eyes went wide. “But-” her voice cracked. “She’ll know that I… Cullen.”_

“ _She already knows,” Blackwall told her. “But she cares about you, I imagine she’d be willing to look past an action you don’t recall, to help you.”_

_Evelyn seemed to slump in on herself and gave a jerky nod of her head. “She’s too nice. No one else. Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone else.”_

It was a reluctant promise, but a promise nonetheless. He found Taashath in her bakery in the village outside of Skyhold. It was early, the scent of baking bread hung heavy in the air. She stood, a steaming mug in hand, her hair haphazardly pinned up at the nape of her neck. A smear of flour on her cheek. “Blackwall,” she said with a smile when he stepped in. “Here, try this,” she made quick work of slicing a hunk of bread off a loaf, it had dark swirls inside. She slathered it in butter and then held it out to him.

He took it, bit in and nearly groaned. The bread was a little sweet, with a bite of spice where the dark swirls were. “What is this?” he asked, around another mouthful.

She laughed quietly, delighted. “Cinnamon. I put a little sugar and cinnamon in the bread. It took some trial and error,” she said, picking up what looked like a brick shaped like the same loaf of bread she’d just cut into. “But I think I might have finally figured that one out.”

“It’s amazing,” he said, finishing it off and she smiled happily. He hated to ruin her mood. “I need to talk to you,” he said with a sigh, “about Evie.” and just like that, her smile fell. “She made me promise I wouldn’t speak to anyone else about the matter. She doesn’t remember the last few months. Evelyn told me she remembered nothing since the Winter Palace, before arriving back here yesterday.”

Taashath crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, that is convenient.” There was an edge to her voice and she jaw was clenched and Blackwall began to wonder if he’d been wrong. “Damn it,” she hissed out. “I believe it, her,” Taasha sighed. “My last conversation with her… she was different. Cullen said that his interaction with her felt wrong. Not just what she did, but everything about it was unlike her.”

“She’s distraught,” Blackwall told her quietly. “Evelyn was more upset by the idea of you being angry with her than...” he trailed off. “Than other things she might have done.”

Taashath’s arms fell to her sides. “Damn it, she is such a bitch,” she muttered but the words held no heat and Blackwall saw her eyes were damp with tears. “I am not a healer, Blackwall. I have no idea why she would have no memory of her actions, or what could cause her to act so out of character.” She paced, went to the oven and checked on the contents before walking away again. “Is she still having the headaches?”

Blackwall gave a short nod of his head. “They seem to be getting worse. I don’t know how to help her.”

“Does she still have any of those tonics I gave her for the pain?” He shook his head. “Okay, I’ll whip up another batch and try to think of… something.” Taashath chewed on her lip, trying to decide how best to handle the situation. How to move forward without breaking Evelyn’s confidence, though, she hadn’t promised the woman anything. But no one else needed to know how broken the Inquisitor was. “In the meantime, take her this.” She wrapped the loaf of cinnamon bread up in a towel and held it out to Blackwall. “It isn’t much, but, she needs to eat.”

“Thank you,” Blackwall said, inclining his head as he took the bundle. “If you’ve need of me or anything, I’ll be in her quarters with her. She doesn’t want to face anyone and with her mind the way it is at present, I don’t want to leave her alone for long.”

“Go,” Taasha jerked her head a little. “I’ll find out what I can and let you know.”

Blackwall left and Taashath set to work. She didn’t have all the ingredients she needed for the pain tonic, so she wrote out a quick list and ducked out of the bakery and walked next door. “Mind if I borrow your son for a quick errand?” she asked the couple that made simple, but lovely clothes.

“Take him!” the woman cried with a laugh. “Please, give him something to do.”

Taashath gave the boy a coin and promised a cookie when he returned with all the items on his list. “Adan should have everything. Just tell him it’s for me, he won’t argue.”

Then back in the bakery, she focused on her task, trying to figure out what in the name of the Maker could possibly be happening with Evelyn. No memory of her actions? Evelyn had never been kind, Taashath knew that well enough, but she wasn’t the cruel sort. A voice whispered in her ear and she spun around. She was alone.

“No,” she said, out loud, though she was talking to herself. “That isn’t possible.” Frowning she lowered her head again, though it was there, that thought in the back of her mind. Impossible. There was no way. The young boy returned with her supplies and she handed him a small bundle of cookies before sending him on his way again.

Darling,” a familiar voice said from the doorway and she looked up, smiling as her heart seemed to take flight in her chest.

“Hello, Cullen,” she said watching as he walked over to the counter. One gloved hand cupped her cheek and he pressed a tender kiss to her lips and she sighed against his mouth.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his brow knitting together.

She waved her hand and tugged him around to her side of the counter. “Yes, everything is fine.”

Cullen tugged her into his arms, held her against his chest, though his armor prevented her from burrowing into him like she normally would. With a soft laugh, she drew back. “Ugh, that is so uncomfortable.” She pressed a hand to his chest piece. Then a wicked glint filled her eyes and she dropped down to her knees in front of him.

“Taashath, what are you-” he broke off when her fingers deftly tugged at the laces of his breeches and then her hand was slipping inside, past his smalls to curl around his length. “Taasha!” it was a hiss of sound and she looked up at him, caught his eye before curling her tongue around the head of his rapidly hardening cock.

She had only done this a few times, but she knew well enough that Cullen enjoyed it very much so. Taashath reached up, found his hand and lead it to the curve of her horn, wrapped his fingers around it, all while staring up into his eyes. Keeping her gaze on his, she took him into her mouth, while one hand curled around the base. Her name was a whisper on his lips, a quiet reverence as she claimed him, took him to the edge of pleasure.

The door opened, Cullen gasped quietly and Taashath went utterly still. “Cassandra,” a startled gasp as his hands smacked onto the counter in front of him and he stepped closer to it, urging Taashath farther under. She eased back but didn’t pull her mouth from his length. She considered it, thought to, because oh, Maker, if Cassandra caught them? She could never meet the other woman’s eye again. But then she thought of Cullen beneath his desk, unrelenting as the soldier stood just a few feet away.

“Cullen, I wasn’t expecting to find you here, though I should not be surprised. I hear that you and Taashath are officially together now.”

“Yes,” it was a rasp, then he breathed out, his hand dipping back down and sliding into her hair. “Yes, we are.”

“I am happy for the both of you,” Cassandra said and Taashath heard the smile in her voice. “Is Taashath here?”

“No,” Cullen said quickly. “The kitchens, she needed some supplies.”

“Oh, well, I suppose I’ll just leave this here for her, you’ll see that she gets it? I know how she loves to read and I found this one on our way back to Skyhold. I believe she’ll enjoy it.”

“Yes, of course,” Cullen told her and then the sound of retreating footsteps reached her ears before the door softly banged shut. “You’re wicked,” Cullen said peering down at Taashath.

“Payback,” she muttered, teasing the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue before taking him deep into her mouth. His fingers curled around her horn again, his other hand holding a fistful of hair as he rocked in time to her gentle bobbing.

“Taasha-Taasha, love, I’m going to spill,” he rasped out a short time later and she met his gaze again, took him deeper into her mouth and a few quick strokes later, Cullen was gasping her name softly. Taashath swallowed, licked the length of him clean, before tucking him back into his smalls and relacing his trousers while his hands rested on the edge of the counter. Then she stood up in the space between his arms and leaned against the counter. “Maker’s breath,” he muttered, but there was a slight grin there at the corner of his mouth. Cullen cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing the edge of her lower lip, before claiming her mouth in a gentle kiss.

She heard that voice again, that while whisper in her ear and she frowned suddenly, remembering her earlier tasks. “Blackwall came by earlier, Evelyn doesn’t have any memory of her actions with you at the Shrine of Dumat.” His frown deepened. “But I don’t know how to help her.”

“Are you sure she isn’t just lying?”

Taashath sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I haven’t spoken with her, so I couldn’t say for certain, but Blackwall seems positive.”

“The man is in love with her, maybe she’s manipulating him.”

Jaw set, Taashath shook her head. “I agree that he loves her, but I don’t think-”

Cullen gave a little shake of his head. “I’m trying to be realistic, darling. I don’t like the idea of the Inquisitor being… as she was that last night at the Shrine of Dumat, but to have no memory at all of her own actions?”

That voice echoed in the back of her mind again. _Demon_. “Maybe you’re right,” she said with a sigh.


	47. Chapter 47

Taashath didn’t know where she was at first. The room was dark and cold, save for the moonlight seeping in through the heavy drapes over the windows. How had she gotten there? “Hello?” she called out softly and there was a soft scratching sound. A whimper. Taashath stilled. Listened, then took a step forward. There was a door that was nearly invisible, Taasha almost didn’t see it. No doorknob, just a small latch.

The scratching sound came again. Taasha realized that little latch was mean to keep whatever was on the other side of the door locked away. What was behind the door? She heard the quite whimpering again. It sounded human. Drawing in a deep breath, Taashath reached for the latch with one hand, then created a ball of fire in the other, just in case.

But the moment she opened the door, she doused the flame. A figure was curled up into a dark corner. Simple leather armor tattered and shredded. The person was trembling, muttering quiet unintelligible things. Taashath stood frozen as she stared at the woman and her heart sank because she knew who it was. “Evelyn,” it was a quiet whisper and the figure didn’t react. “Evelyn,” she repeated, taking a step closer.

The muttering grew more frantic, and Taashath was able to understand the word ‘no’ being repeated over and over.

“Evelyn,” she said again, moving farther into the room. “It’s me, it’s Taasha.”

Finally, Evelyn tilted her face up and Taashath nearly recoiled. Her cheeks were gaunt, eyes sunken into deep hollows. Lips were cracked and bleeding and there were deep scratches on her face and down her neck. The once pristine armor was stained with blood and ichor and barely held together. Dark bruises were visible through the holes and tears in the fabric and leather. “Help,” the word was barely a sound and Taashath hit her knees in front of Evelyn.

“Oh, Maker,” she rasped out, hands hovering over the broken woman. “Who did this to you? It’s alright, you’ll be alright, I’ll get help.” Because Taashath had never had any skill with magically healing. Taashath reached up, touched Evelyn’s jaw, trying to get a better look at her face.

Bony fingers curled around her wrist and Taashath gasped softly. It looked like the hand of a rotting corpse. Rotten flesh barely clung to pale bone. “Kill her,” the voice that came from Evelyn sounded raspy and guttural. “Kill _me_.” Looking back up at Evelyn’s face, startled, Taashath fell back with a scream as pieces of flesh began to fall away from her skull.

 

“Taasha, darling, Taashath, wake up, you’re dreaming,” Cullen’s strained voice finally reached her, and she realized his hands gripped her wrists and the blankets were wound around her legs as if she’d been thrashing violently. A sob escaped her lips and Cullen gently pulled her into his arms. “It was only a nightmare, you’re safe,” he reassured her, as he had so many nights before when the nightmares came for her.

“It was different,” she muttered, her voice hoarse as she pressed her face against his throat.

“Tell me,” he spoke softly, voice gentle while his fingers combed through her hair.

“I-” she broke off and shook her head. “I don’t remember it.” It had been vivid and horrific, yet she couldn’t remember any of it. Cullen pulled back a bit to look down at her, a slight frown furrowing his brow. She always remembered her dreams, especially the bad ones. “It was… Maker,” a sob escaped her and she had no idea why. “I- Cullen, it was...”

Cullen made quick work of freeing the blanket to wrap it up and around her back as he held her to him. “It was only a dream, darling. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Taashath listened to his reassuring voice, the sound of his breathing, felt the beat of his heart against her own.

 

Days ticked by slowly. She couldn’t remember the nightmare but it haunted her all the same. That thought always there, lurking in the back of Taashath’s mind, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. More than once she found herself arguing the unlikelihood to no one at all in the bakery. Taashath had gone and seen Evelyn just yesterday, sick with the flu, the woman had been miserable and wept openly as she stumbled through an apology. “I am so happy for you and Cullen. If anyone in this fucked up world deserves happiness, it is you.”

That was the Evelyn Taashath knew. “She can still close rifts, therefore, she isn’t a demon.”

_It is inside her, in her mind. She fights. She claws. She tries to break through. He makes it easier._

“No!” It was impossible. Possessed. No one ever came back from that. Besides, she wasn’t a mage.

_Being a mage just makes it easier. The demon wanted in and she fought so hard. Got free, but it latched on. Chipped away at her until she couldn’t tell her thoughts from its voice._

“Darling,” Cullen said his voice tinged with worry.

“Oh! I didn’t hear you come in,” she offered him a bashful smile. “I just spaced out there.”

“Are you alright?” The worry was still there. “You haven’t seemed to sleep well the last few nights.”

_Demon_. The thought sprung to her mind and fear filled her veins as she stared at Cullen, former Templar, a man who for years hated mages. _How do you think he would feel about you hearing voices and talking of demons? He loves me. Trusts me. He loved Talon, but he said himself he would have killed her if she’d failed her Harrowing._

“I’m alright,” she reassured him and herself. “It is just this whole thing with Evelyn.” A touchy subject. Cullen was convinced she was manipulating both her and Blackwall. Her repeated insistence that they not tell anyone that there was something wrong with her memory, that she refused to seek help from any of the healers, were all suspect to Cullen. She waved it off. “Did you need something? You don’t usually come by until later.”

It was part of the routine they had fallen into. Taashath woke early, went to the bakery, spent the hours before dawn preparing bread and rolls and a few sweets, as Skyhold and the village began to stir, people would stop in, buy bread for the day, a biscuit to break their fast. Around mid-day Cullen would stop in, to bring her a proper meal and to kiss her before returning to his own duties.

“No,” he told her, shaking his head, though she could see the worry line pinching his brows together. “I just had a free moment and thought I would come by.” He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at her as if searching for something.

_Maybe the Templar is looking for the Demon in your head._ She flinched, tried to cover it by going to the oven where she stoked the fire. “I’m fine, really,” she waved him off. “I’ll see you later? You’re coming by for lunch?” It was a dismissal and she felt horrible for it. He saw too much.

“You know that you can tell me anything, Taashath.”

“I know,” she said quickly, but barely glanced at him. Because she knew if she told him what was going on in her head, he wouldn’t be so accepting. “I’ll see you later, love.” She felt his eyes on her for a while, before he finally stepped back and walked out of the bakery, leaving her standing there alone, chest tight and feeling miserable.

Taashath picked up a log and shoved it into the flames. A bony hand seemed to unfurl from the fire, curl around her arm and yank. With a quiet shout, Taashath jerked back and stared down at the already blistering burn over the back of her hand. There was no hand. No bone. Just fire and wood and ash. “Shit,” she muttered, quickly retrieving the jar of salve she kept for the inevitable burns.

She’d never burned herself so badly before. Flame bent to her will. A little burn here or there. Nothing like this. Her hands were trembling and she blinked quickly, suddenly blinded by tears. “Maker’s breath, what is wrong with me?” she leaned against the counter and sunk down to the floor and drew her knees to her chest.

A boy knelt before her. Pale blonde hair and big eyes peering at her as he picked up the jar of salve and opened it. “Who are you?” she asked, certain she’d never seen him before.

“I am here to help,” he told her in a voice that was familiar. But she knew she’d never seen him, never spoken to him before. With a gentle hand, he applied the salve to her burn. “It’s getting stronger,” he said quietly. “It won’t be long before she can’t fight back. She’s fading faster than before and I can’t get to her. I can’t reach her. It won’t let me. But you saw, you saw what was left of her.”

Taashath shook her head. “What are you talking about?” But she knew. She knew exactly what this boy was talking about. A frail figure curled in a ball, rotting away but still alive.

“It has to be you,” he said.

She blinked and looked around. Taashath sat alone on the floor of the bakery, her back pressed into the cabinet. “Strange,” she murmured, as she pushed up to her feet and tried to remember how she’d gotten there, and how she had burned herself.

The door opened to the sound of Miri chattering quietly to a babbling Brisa. “What did you do to yourself?” Miri asked looking at Taashath’s hand.

“Burned myself,” Taasha said with a shrug, taking the baby into her arms.

Miri scowled, grabbing an apron and tying it around her waist before she made quick work of washing her hands and gathering what she needed to whip together a batch of the dense little cakes she made every day. “You never burn yourself, not like that.”

“I was distracted,” Taashath murmured. “Cullen and I…” her brow furrowed. Had they argued? No, it wasn’t an argument. “Do you mind if I leave you here for a bit? I want to go chat with him, I’ll take Brisa so you don’t have to worry about her.”

“Go, go,” Miri waved a hand dismissively. Taashath left quickly, talking to Brisa as they walked. The girl cooed and babbled back as they made their way into Skyhold proper and Taashath easily found Cullen. She could practically see the dark cloud hovering over his head as he shouted orders at the troops. The moment he spotted her though he broke away.

“What’s wrong?”

“I love you,” she said and his frown deepened. “I’m sorry, about earlier. I’m just so tired,” Taasha sighed. “The nightmares, and not remembering them and… I know you don’t believe there is something wrong with Evelyn, but I do, and I’m worried.”

He fingered the bandage around the back of her hand. “What happened?” he asked and she sighed.

“I wasn’t paying attention after you left and burned my hand on the oven. Please, say you forgive me.”

Brisa reached for Cullen and he took her without thought, cradled in his arms. Then Cullen shook his head and slid one hand to Taashath’s hip, drawing her closer. “Darling, there is nothing to forgive. I am worried about you, that’s all. Your nightmares are unlike any you’ve had before. I don’t like it. I don’t like that there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

Sudden shouts and cries of alarm had them pulling apart. _Fire_. Thick smoke billowed up from somewhere in the village and dread filled Taashath’s belly.


	48. Chapter 48

Evelyn lay in her bed, listening to the soft rumbling snores from the man who lay half over her, his head pillowed on her breast. Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she blinked quickly, willing them away. She felt… like herself. Or at least, more like herself than she had in months. Angling her head down to look at the top of his head, she reached up to stroke her fingers through his hair. _I’m sorry, Alex,_ she thought. _I still love you. I will always love you_.

Glancing toward her desk, she knew that she should get up. So many things to do that she’d been putting off since returning to Skyhold. In the nearly two weeks since she’d been back, Evelyn had hidden in her quarters. She hadn’t wanted to face her advisors, especially not Cullen. Getting sick had been a relief, and to be honest, she’d exaggerated the illness greatly. But he knew, and he let her. He understood.

The marks on her body had healed. Her mind, on the other hand, that would take considerably longer, but he’d promised to be there for her. Evelyn shifted in the bed, trying to slip out from the bear of a man’s weight.

He grumbled, his hand curling around her hip. “Where are you going?” his voice was a quiet growl.

“I have so much work to catch up on,” Evelyn told him quietly, pressing her lips to his forehead. “Let me up, just for a bit.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked, and she heard the teasing tone in his voice, he had already shifted his weight, allowing her to slip out from beneath him.

“Then Josephine will be up here, pounding on that door and lecturing me for neglecting my duties. Just for a bit, Thom. Then I’ll come back to bed.”

His eyes opened at that, and he looked at her, worry and hope filling his eyes. “It’s been a long time since anyone has called me that,” he rasped.

“I won’t tell anyone else, it’s your secret, but… I like it. Fits you so much better than Gordon.” Evelyn kissed him softly, and her heart clenched tight in her chest at the fact that he didn’t recoil from her. Didn’t shun her. No, Thom Rainier, tugged her closer, kissed her deeper. “Sleep,” she said, after finally breaking away from him. “The sun isn’t even up yet. Sleep, and keep the bed warm for me.”

One more quick kiss and she slipped from the bed, found Thom’s shirt and drew it over her head before padding across the room to her desk where missives and notes and things that needed to be signed and replied to were piled in haphazard stacks. It had been organized. Neat stacks that Josephine had likely separated into some semblance of order. But in a fit of temper, Evelyn had swiped everything off the desk. She rubbed her temple and picked up one of the tonic bottles Taashath had brought for her and downed the contents quickly before sinking down into her chair.

“ _You deserve the truth.”_

“ _And what is that?”_ She’d been terrified.

“ _I am not Warden Blackwall. I am Thom Rainier.”_

“ _And who is Thom Rainier?”_

“ _A liar. A coward. A murderer.”_

“ _Tell me,” she murmured softly._

And he had. Evelyn had listened as Blackwall confessed all and it had broken her heart. He had been so certain she would hate him. So when she climbed into his lap, he had used gentle hands to try and push her away, but Evelyn hadn’t let him. _“I don’t care who you were before, what you did before. Joining the Wardens, they forget your past, don’t they?”_

“ _But I never-”_

“ _For years you’ve lived as a Warden. For years,” she murmured, straddling his thighs. “You’ve helped so many people, done so much good-”_

“ _I can’t make up for the crimes of my past, nothing I ever do will be enough-”_

_Evelyn pressed her fingers to his lips. “No, but those actions… they made you who you are today,” she told him, her hand sliding down to rest over his heart. “You are a good man.” They made you into the man I love._ She hadn’t been able to say those words. She’d felt too raw. Wondered if it was a betrayal of the memory of Alex and of Isaak.

The sound of movement drew her out of her musings and she looked over to see Thom sliding out of bed and tugging on his trousers. He looked around for his shirt, then realized she wore it and the corner of his mouth lifted. “What are you doing?” she asked him. Thom found another of his shirts, pulled it on and walked over to her where he pressed a kiss to her lips.

“I’ll be right back.”

Then he was gone. She sighed softly, rubbed the center of her chest, then lowered her head to the paperwork again. She sorted everything into neat orderly piles once again and began to make her way through the easiest stack. Ones that just required her notice. Dread began growing in her belly as she read. Months. There were months of time she didn’t remember. _What is wrong with me?_

She jumped when she felt the hand on her back. Thom set down a mug of steaming tea in a small empty spot on her desk and she looked up at him. “Alright?” he asked and she gave a jerky nod before reaching up to curl her fingers in his beard. Evelyn gave it a little tug, using it to pull him down so she could claim his lips in a soft kiss.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Thom hummed softly against her lips. “Thank you,” he echoed before finally stepping away. Evelyn watched as he walked over to the hardback chair that sat near the fire. He picked up the piece of wood and his little knife and began carving.

 

Taashath knew, even before they made it to the village, that it would be the bakery. “Where is Miri!?” she shouted over the commotion. The bakery was completely engulfed in flames and the fire had quickly spread to the clothing shop and was working its way down the row of buildings. Brisa had started screaming and there was no calming the child down. “Take her,” Taashath said, handing the girl back to Cullen.

“What are you doing?”

“Miri was in there!” Cullen looked at the building. The large front window had shattered, flames licked out and over the roof. He knew exactly what she planned to do. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm, ready to argue, but she looked at him and he stilled. “I have to try. I can do this, Cullen.” Tears filled her eyes and she touched Brisa’s cheek, then gave Cullen a quick kiss before she ran to the doorway.

She was shaking as she stepped through the door. The flames were hot, the hem of her skirt caught, but Taashath focused as much energy as she dared into trying to calm the flames, to push them away from her. She’d never tried anything like this before and she was terrified it wouldn’t work. What if she wasn’t strong enough? But she had to try. For Miri.

The smoke was thick and the heat from the flames was overwhelming. “Miri!” she shouted, but knew the other woman, if she were still alive, couldn’t hear her over the roar of the flames. It was so loud. Taashath remembered the fire in Haven. Another fire just like this one. Flissa. Pain lanced her chest and she staggered. “Miri!” she shouted again, her voice was hoarse though. Taashath coughed.

A figure lay sprawled on the floor, not far from the counter. Her clothes were burned and Taashath could see the blackened skin. “Miri,” she sobbed, sinking down to her knees beside the woman. “Come on, you can’t die. Not like this. Brisa needs you,” the words were a rasp as she tried to figure out the best way to get the woman up. But the flames were growing more intense and Taashath realized she’d lost her hold on them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing the woman and lifting her up into her arms, cradling her like a child. On her feet, Taashath staggered under the weight for a moment but then she hurried to the door. The flames had spread and Taashath was exhausted. She pressed at them with her magic. Willed them the part.

Cullen stood on the other side of the door. His face a mask of terror. “Taashath!” he yelled, spotting her through the flames.

“Take-” she stumbled through the doorway. Several people descended on them. Healers swept away with Miri and Cullen caught Taashath, his hands searching her body for injury. She fell to her knees. “Brisa-” she coughed. “Where-”

“Oliver has her,” he jerked his head in the direction of the young man. “He just arrived back.”

Taashath was so happy to see him. “Ol- shit.”

“Taasha,” Cullen said, cupping her face. “You exhausted yourself, didn’t you?” he asked, knowing.

“Sor-sorry.” Then the last thing she heard was Cullen cursing as everything went black.

 

Evelyn blinked as she stood in front of the closed door that lead out onto one of the balconies in her quarters. Thick smoke filled the air. “Taashath,” it was a quiet whisper and she turned. Thom sat in the chair his chin resting on his chest, snoring softly. She looked down and had no recollection of getting dressed. Her tea on the desk was cold. The paperwork only half done. “Thom,” she said, stepping forward.

He jerked slightly, sat up straighter and rubbed a hand over his face. “What is it, Evie?” He frowned in concentration and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“There is a fire, out in the village. I think-”

“Don’t say it,” he said, pushing up to his feet. He crossed the room to her, pulled her close and looked past her, out the window and saw the smoke. “Stay here, I’ll go see-”

“It was the bakery,” Evelyn whispered. “Taashath… we have to find Taasha,” her voice broke.


	49. Chapter 49

By the time Evelyn and Thom made it down to the courtyard, Cullen was stepping through the gates from the village with a crush of other people. It was chaos. But Evelyn saw Taashath cradled in Cullen’s arms. She couldn’t see much, but it was apparent her clothes were singed and the woman wasn’t moving. Running across the distance, Evelyn slid to a stop in front of Cullen. “Is she okay?” she asked, her voice lodged with tears.

“Get out of my way,” Cullen snarled turning slightly, angling Taasha away, to shoulder past Evelyn. She stood frozen for a moment, stunned, which made the dread all that much worse. Thom’s hand slid along the small of her back, over the curve of her hip and tugged her against his chest.

“Let him get her to the healers, and then we’ll go see,” he said, leading her out of the path of people running to and fro. Evelyn gave a jerky nod of her head and they stood against the stone wall that surrounded Skyhold for several minutes.

“Thom,” it was a breath of sound and she felt the tears burning her eyes. “You know it was me.”

He gripped her jaw between thumb and forefinger, angling her face up to his. “Don’t say that.”

“But you know-”

“We don’t know anything yet,” he insisted.

He refused to acknowledge it, but she knew. “She’s my best friend, why would I have...” If she’d done this, what else might she do? It terrified her. Who else could she talk to about it? Who else did she dare admit it to? Josephine? No, she would be too kind, and the last thing Evelyn needed was kindness. Leliana? The woman was terrifying.

 

Cullen laid Taasha out on one of the cots and stroked a hand over the top of her head as he knelt down beside her. “I hate it when you do that, love,” he whispered. He’d seen her eyes roll back in her head like that too many times before. “Wake up, darling, please.” She would wake up because there was no other option. He could not, would not, lose her. A few feet away he could hear the healers doing what they could for Miri. The woman had been badly burned.

“Commander,” a soft lilting voice of a young woman. “I can take a look at her if you’d like.”

Cullen glanced up at the healer. “I think she’s fine, just exhausted. Could you get some water though, and a rag?”

“Of course, ser.” She disappeared, then returned a few moments later holding a small basin. The water was warm and Cullen thanked her before dipping the rag in. He wrung it out then carefully began wiping the soot from Taashath’s face.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt someone step up beside him. Cullen glanced up briefly and grit his jaw. “What.” It came out a snarled demand. Evelyn stood there. He didn’t trust her. Not after her attempt to seduce him before. She had Blackwall wrapped around her finger, and he didn’t like that Taashath had so easily been swayed by her either.

“What...what happened?” Evelyn asked quietly. “Is she okay?”

The concern in her voice was almost palpable, but Cullen refused to believe it. “There was an explosion in the bakery,” he told her curtly. “Miri was inside when it happened. Taashath went in after her.”

“But… they’ll be okay right?”

Cullen set down the rag and slowly got to his feet. Evelyn’s eyes widened and she took a quick step back, bumping into Blackwall who stood directly behind her. “I don’t know.”

“Is there anything I can do? I want to help.”

“Why would you do that?” Cullen knew he wasn’t being kind. But his worry for Taasha, his anger that the bakery she loved so much being destroyed, and his distrust of the woman in front of him all came to a head. He had read reports from soldiers and had spoken with Cassandra, and he didn’t trust Evelyn.

“She’s my friend,” Evelyn said, shifting from one foot to the other. Blackwall still stood behind her, a silent wall of support for her.

Even knowing what she’d done? “You hated her when you first joined the Inquisition. Simply because of who she is.”

Evelyn made a quiet sound. “And I was wrong.” Tears filled her eyes. “Andraste’s ass, Cullen, I’m sorry. I don’t… whatever it was that I did-”

He cut her off. “I don’t believe you and I don’t want you here.” Evelyn’s mouth snapped shut and she quickly wiped away the tears that streaked down her cheeks.

“Of course, Commander,” her voice cracked and she twisted out of Blackwall’s arms and all but ran out of the room.

“Taashath is her only friend, she’s worried about her,” Blackwall said, his voice harsh. “That was unfair-”

“She’s manipulating you,” Cullen cut him off. “I don’t trust her. But if I find out someone intentionally went after Taasha again, I will kill them with my bare hands,” it was a snarl. He’d let the Templar go, the one who had nearly taken Taasha away from him. Leliana hadn’t made any progress in figuring out who was behind the auction. Now, this.

Cullen turned away from him, knelt back down beside Taasha and resumed his task. Her clothes were singed, but she had no obvious injuries, no burns, save for the one on the back of her hand from before. He reached out and fingered the ends of her hair. She’d lose a few inches, he thought absently.

“How is she?” Oliver’s voice was a whisper as he came to stand at Cullen’s side. He looked up and saw that the young man still cradled Brisa in his arms, though the infant now slept peacefully.

“I can take her,” Cullen offered, moving to stand up.

Oliver shook his head a little. “It’s okay, I’ve got her, just got her to sleep. Maker, can she wail.” He rocked slightly as he held her and Cullen was almost taken aback by the ease in which Oliver had taken to caring for the infant. He had to remind himself that Oliver was not the kid he’d been when he first met him in Kirkwall all those years ago. “Is Taasha going to be okay?”

“She should be fine, she’s just tired,” he hoped. Maker, he prayed. He should have let one of the healers look at her. But he could still hear them working on Miri on the other side of the room and didn’t want to draw any attention away from her. She was in far worse condition.

“How is Miri?”

“I don’t know,” Cullen said, bowing his head. Taashath would have been in the bakery. She rarely left the bakery during the day. Had they not had their little argument, had she not sought him out, she would have been in the bakery during the explosion. He turned his head, saw the healers crowded around Miri and knew that it could have been Taashath they were all working so hard to save.

 

Consciousness slowly crept back to Taashath’s mind. The dreams she’d been having were strange and terrifying, so vivid, yet she couldn’t remember anything about them. _Smoke. Thick smoke and heat and flames_. It was quiet, the soft sound of snoring nearby. Familiar. She knew that snore. But the bed wasn’t their soft bed in the loft. It was hard and uncomfortable and the room smelled distinctly of herbs. Thick, heavy ones.

Blinking her eyes open she peered into the darkness that wasn’t actually darkness. It took a moment to adjust, there were a few candles that burned low. After a moment she realized it was the room that the healers used. The fire. The bakery. Her heart clenched. She remembered the flames. Miri. Maker, no. Taashath struggled to push herself up into a sitting position. She had to find Miri. Where was Brisa?

“Hey,” Cullen’s voice was rough and she realized he’d been sitting on the floor, his back against the cot, his head resting near her hand. He reared up onto his knees and carefully grasped her arms. “You’re okay, it’s okay.”

“Cullen-” her voice cracked and he tugged her into his arms, pressed his face against her throat and after a moment she felt hot tears against her skin. She wrapped her arms around him, then her legs around his waist and clung to him. “I’m okay,” she whispered against his hair, feeling a lump in her throat. How long had she been out? “I’m okay.” His arms slid around her waist, a band of pure strength as he clung to her.

“You’re awake,” one of the healers said crossing the room. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright, just… overtaxed my magic… it happens sometimes,” she admitted. “How is Miri? Please, tell me she’ll be alright?” Taashath could see past the healer, to the woman laid out on a cot.

The healer pursed her lips. “It’s bad. The burns are severe. We have done all that we can, it is in the Maker’s hands now.”

“Where is Brisa?” she asked and felt Cullen’s lips turn up into a slight smile before he lifted his head.

“Oliver,” he said, then canted his head to the side. Taashath followed the movement, saw the young man sitting in a chair, Brisa on his chest, both sound asleep. “Do you feel well enough to leave, darling?” Cullen asked, cupping her jaw and she nodded.

“I’m filthy,” she murmured, able to smell the smoke on her skin and clothes.

“It’s late, the bathhouse will be empty,” Cullen said and finally withdrew before taking her hand and helping her to her feet. Her legs were a little unsteady and she leaned into Cullen’s side. “We’ll get you something to eat as well,” he said.

They walked in silence, first up to Cullen’s office where she waited while Cullen climbed the ladder to the loft to grab a change of clothes for her and her favorite soap before they headed for the bathhouse. “How bad is the bakery?” she asked, but she knew already. She remembered the flames licking over every surface when she’d stood in the center of it.

“We’ll rebuild,” he told her, squeezing her against his side. “The bakery, the shop next door. Thankfully, it didn’t spread any farther.” Cullen led her into the bathhouse, he closed and latched the door behind them, guaranteeing they would not be disturbed then walked with her into the main room.

Taashath sat down heavily on one of the stone benches and tilted her head back to look up at him as he came to stand in front of her. “I love you,” she murmured quietly.

Cullen cupped her face between his hands and her eyes slipped shut. “I love you too, my darling,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “I think you took a good ten years off my life by walking into that burning building though.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. “I couldn’t leave Miri in there. I couldn’t save Flissa, I had to try-”

“I know,” he said softly, kissing her again. “I know, darling. But it was terrifying. I have nearly lost you too many times already.”

Taashath reached up, pressed her hand flat against his chest, over his heart. “You’re stuck with me, Commander. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I am going to hold you to that, my darling,” Cullen crouched and unlaced her boots, then his own. “Come on,” he pulled her to her feet and tugged her shirt open, let his fingers slide along the bare skin of her hip.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly the longest thing I have ever written and I have no idea how it happened. But I thank you for reading it! <3 <3

By the time Thom caught up to Evelyn, it was back in her quarters. She was sitting on the small couch, hands resting in her lap. She was so still it made his heart skip a beat. Then she tilted her head up to look at him and he saw the small wooden bird he’d carved for her clasped between her hands. “I’m so tired, Thom,” she admitted. “I’m so tired of… everything. I’m going to step down as Inquisitor. I’ll speak with Leliana, I’ll tell her everything.”

Closing the distance he went down on his knees in front of her, then covered her hands with his own. Dwarfing her much smaller hands. At that moment, she seemed utterly breakable. But he knew her, he knew her strength. “I’ll be there for you, every step of the way,” he assured her and a small smile turned up the corner of her mouth.

“You’re so different from Alex. But in some ways, you remind me of him. I never figured out why he loved me, never had the courage to ask. What is it that you see in me?”

“I see a strong woman, that despite all the odds, has continued to fight. I see a fiercely loyal woman who would put her life on the line for those she cares for. I see a woman, willing to forgive an unworthy man his sins. I see the woman who has held my heart in the palm of her hands for months.”

Evelyn’s jaw trembled and tears filled her eyes. “I never imagined being able to love anyone after Alex. I never wanted to open myself up to anyone like that again. To risk the pain of losing them. But you didn’t give my heart much choice in the matter, Thom Rainier.” She set aside the wooden bird, cupped his bearded chin and drew his face closer. “I...love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed, kissing her so tenderly it made her heartache. “We’ll get through this, Evie. I promise you that. I’ll be there for you. I’ll fight at your side, watch your back. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

“Make love to me?” she asked after a moment. “I just want to forget everything, just one more day. I’ll speak with Leliana first thing tomorrow.” One big hand palmed her hip and tugged her closer.

“Always,” murmured against her lips before he took her mouth in a kiss that stole her breath and if she weren’t already in love with him, would have claimed her heart. He kissed her until her head was spinning and her lungs felt as if they might explode. Hands gentle as he took his time releasing the buttons on the front of her shirt, knuckles brushing bare skin, sending little shocks of pleasure through her.

Evelyn reached out, tugged at his own tunic, but Thom brushed her hands away. “No, not yet,” he said, then tugged her shirt down, but only off her shoulders. He twisted the fabric into his fist at the small of her back, and she tugged, found her forearms were trapped.

“Thom,” it was a quiet gasp. “What are-” she broke off when he tugged down one side of the breast band and wrapped his lips around her nipple. Back arching she pressed into his mouth, felt him groan quietly before he scrapped his teeth over the pebbled bud. Evelyn wanted her hands free, wanted to tangle her fingers in his hair. But being at his mercy was exhilarating. He lifted his head, met her gaze with dark, hooded eyes before wrapping his lips around her other nipple, not bothering to tug the fabric of her breast band down this time. He sucked through the fabric at the same time his hand came up to palm her bare breast. “Thom!” she cried out this time, arching, desperate to get closer.

Her arms, she realized, may have been trapped, but her legs were not. He was nestled between her thighs, his stomach against her core. She squeezed, locked her ankles at the small of his back and held on tight and silently sent up a thanks to the Maker for allowing her this man in her life before he stole every thought from her mind.

 

Stripped of their clothes, Cullen held Taashath’s hand and helped her step into the large tub. He sunk down on the bench and dragged her back against his chest and proceeded to gently wash every inch of her body before starting on her hair. “We’ll have to trim off some of your hair,” he told her, voice gentle.

Taashath made a quiet sound of agreement. She had noticed how badly the ends of her hair had been singed. “Later,” she told him quietly, then tipped her head back to let him rinse the soap from it. Her eyes slipped shut and the warm cascade of water slid along her scalp. “I want to tell you what I think happened with the bakery, but… I’m...” she pursed her lips and straightened before moving to sit on the bench next to Cullen before pulling him closer, reversing their previous position. “I’m scared of how you’ll react,” the words were a whisper as she lathered the soap up and began to wash his shoulders.

“Scared? Why? Taasha, darling.” It cut his heart open to hear her say that. Scared of his reaction? “Have I done something in the past? Have I scared you before?”

“No,” she said quickly, pressed her lips to his throat, and slid her hands down his chest, holding onto him tightly. “No, you haven’t, I’m being irrational.”

Cullen’s hands came to rest on top of hers over his chest. “Taashath, I love you. Nothing in this world could change that.”

“You loved Talon,” the words were barely a whisper of sound.

“I did,” he said slowly, trying to connect the two. “But the love I felt for her, it doesn’t compare to how I feel for you. With Talon it was more lust than love, but still, there was love. With you...” he wanted to turn, to face her, to look into her eyes and make sure that she understood, but Taashath wouldn’t release him and when he tried to twist she slid her legs around his waist anchoring him where he sat. “Darling,” he murmured, catching her hand with his, he brought it up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “You changed the way I saw the world. You were my friend above all else. You reminded me of what the Templars were meant to be, what-who I had wanted to be.”

Taashath rested her cheek against the back if his shoulder and he heard her let out a shuddering breath. “I couldn’t imagine a forever with Talon. It wasn’t a possibility. But, Taasha, darling, I want forever with you. When the Inquisition is done, Corypheus defeated and some semblance of order is restored to Thedas, I want you. I want to take you to meet my family and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Taashath was quiet for several long moments and Cullen wondered if he’d confessed too much? But then she turned her head and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. “I want that too,” she whispered. “Not taking you home to the family, because, well, I don’t have one. But… the rest. The forever. I never thought to hope for something like that.” Later, later she would tell him about Evelyn and what she thought was happening. It would keep for a few hours more.

“The first time I thought of you as… more than just my friend, I was in the bath, one of the smaller private ones,” she admitted, letting one hand slide oh-so-slowly down Cullen’s chest. He sat up a little straighter, angled his head to look at her over his shoulder. “I… liked touching myself. Saarebas weren’t allowed pleasure. Sex within the Qun is casual. No emotion tied to it. But Saarebas still weren’t allowed. So I would indulge, often.” Cullen groaned quietly, leaned back into her more as her fingers slipped into the hair trailing from his navel down. “You know I read smutty novels. A lot of them. But they are all about humans, occasionally an elvhen servant or something. None of them were roles I could put myself into. There is nothing dainty about me. I’m no delicate royal or fierce warrior.”

Cullen’s hand slid along her thigh that she still hand curled around his waist, and cupped her rear, tugging her closer. “You are elegant and strong, and so damn beautiful.”

She nipped at his ear, but the words made her heart swell in her chest. “You’re interrupting my story.”

“Apologies, my love,” he said, rested his head back on her shoulder, wishing he could put his hands on her. “Please, continue.”

“I was thinking there was no man out there who would ever look at me like the hero does the ladies in those stories. But then… you were in my mind. My own personal hero. Strong,” she ran her free hand along his bicep. “Protective. Caring. And then I thought of your hands.” The hand he still had on her rear squeezed and she smiled against his neck. “I thought of it sliding up my thigh, thick fingers parting my curls before delving inside.” Cullen groaned again, louder this time as her hand curled around the length of him. “I told myself not to think of you like that. It was wrong. You were my friend and I had no right… but my mind ran away with it.” She stroked his cock, slow and steady as she spoke and Cullen’s other hand gripped her thigh, squeezed.

“First one finger, then two, sliding in and out,” her thumb rubbed over the head of his cock, teased the slit. “You’re so strong, just the thought of your forearm between my thighs,” she moaned softly, stroked her hand back down his length while the other hand slid over his stomach. “It didn’t take long for me to come. Then I thought of your mouth,” she slid her hand up from his stomach, over his chest, fingertips grazing a nipple before sliding along his throat. “You’re the only man I ever kissed,” she told him. “Just thinking of your lips on my throat makes me wet. The scrape of your stubble. I wondered what it would feel like… other places.”

“Darling,” Cullen choked out around the lust clogging his throat. “I’m going to come if you keep that up.”

Her hand stilled. She was enjoying this teasing, stroking him and bringing him pleasure. But just in case, what if everything fell apart in the coming days? “Inside me,” she rasped against his ear. “Come inside me, Cullen.”

He whirled around, yanked her into his lap. “Are you-”

“Yes!” Cullen slammed inside of her, buried to the hilt and for a moment time stopped. No breath, no sound, just the pleasure of coming together racing through them. Taashath slid her arms around his shoulders and leaned down to press her forehead against his. She began to move, slow, measured movements and Cullen’s hands found her hips, helping her along the way.

They held onto each other, chasing the pleasure together. “Forever,” he told her, brushing a kiss over her mouth.

“Forever, Kadan,” she echoed, hands sliding onto his hair.


	51. Chapter 51

After finishing with their bath, Cullen used the scissors he’d brought and trimmed the ends of Taashath’s hair before they left. The stopped by the infirmary, checked in with the healers on Miri’s condition, found Oliver had taken up a place on the cot Taashath had earlier vacated, with Brisa sleeping in a makeshift crib beside him. Knowing there was nothing that they could do, they made their way up to Cullen’s office, then the loft. “Tell me,” Cullen said as they got ready for bed.

“I think Evelyn is possessed,” she said and sunk down on the edge of the bed. “I know you think she is just manipulating us, faking it, but… I remembered bits and pieces of those dreams… and I’ve been...”

Cullen sat beside her, took her hands in his. “Tell me,” he repeated, his voice gentle and encouraging.

“This is the part that scares me how you’ll react… I’ve been speaking with a boy, who isn’t quite… human.” Cullen’s brows drew together as he looked at her. “His name is Cole, he wants to-”

“Cole?!” Cullen broke away, standing up quickly. “That-that thing it was in Haven. It came to Skyhold. Evelyn banished it, told the demon, because that is what it is, to leave and you’re telling me it is still here?”

Taashath curled her hands into fists and pressed them against her stomach, nervous butterflies taking wing. “Cullen, he isn’t a demon, he’s a spirit and he’s trying to help.”

“You’ve been talking to it?” he whirled around to face her and she tried to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat. “That thing is a demon, Taashath. It makes people forget about seeing it-” he remembered his urge to go check on Taashath earlier that day. Maker, had it only been that morning? The need to see that she was alright. Had that _thing_ been the cause? If he hadn’t gone, Taashath wouldn’t have come looking for him later, would have been in the bakery when it exploded.

“Cullen, would you just stop and listen to me for a minute?” Cullen could hear the anguish in her voice and he stopped pacing the length of the room and looked at her.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he murmured, crossing back to the bed. “I’m sorry.” Cullen sat back down beside her, took her now trembling hands in his and kissed the backs of them. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Tell me, I’m listening.”

It took a long time for her to speak again and Cullen kept quietly apologizing. “I had a dream,” she murmured, staring down at their hands. “Evelyn was locked in a tiny room, rotting away, dying. She begged me to kill it, to kill _her_. I saw Cole in the bakery this morning. He’s been there before, we’ve argued, him trying to make me see what I didn’t want to see. There is a demon inside Evelyn’s mind and those times she can’t remember, is when it overpowers her. But she can’t keep it up, it’s taking more and more from her. She’s going to die and we’ll lose her completely if we don’t do something soon.”

“Darling,” Cullen murmured. “What makes you think that Evelyn is possessed and not just like this? She wasn’t kind when she first arrived in Haven, there was no love lost between the two of you.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” she murmured. “In Therinfall Redoubt, Evelyn faced off with the Envy demon, yes?”

“Yes,” Cullen agreed, but then he shook his head. “But she overpowered it and it was killed.”

“But what if that wasn’t the only demon?”

Cullen still didn’t think he believed it. But on the off chance that Taashath was right, that the thing named Cole wasn’t lying. “If Evelyn is possessed, there is nothing we can do, save for ending her life, and she is the only one who can close the rifts.” They needed her.

Taashath shook her head. “No, that isn’t our only option.” She knew that Cole had said he couldn’t get into her mind, but she could. The idea was terrifying. Did they have time? Could it wait a little bit longer? Would Evelyn be irrevocably damaged? “Talon has done it, saved someone from possession.”

“How long until Talon arrives?”

“I… don’t know. I’m not sure, she said she had other things to take care of before she came.”

Cullen rubbed his hand over his mouth and along his jaw. “The fewer people that know about this, the better. We’ll speak with Leliana, find out if she has heard anything from Talon. But it will have to wait until morning.”

 

_Cole stood at the foot of the bed and Taashath blinked at him. She opened her mouth to ask what it was, but no sound would come out. “Too late,” he said quietly._

Taasha sat up with a start. The early morning sunlight was filtering in through the hole in the ceiling and a heavy sense of dread filled her belly. Cullen reached for her, with a murmur of her name and she looked down at him. His curly hair was a riotous mess and it made the corner of her lips twist up into a faint smile. How could any one person feel so much love for someone? “I’ll go get breakfast,” she told him, unsure if the dread was real or imagined.

Cullen made a quiet sound but released her when she slipped out of bed. Dressing quickly she headed down the ladder and stood at the door of Cullen’s office. Too late? She wanted to go and check on Miri. She wanted to track down Evelyn and look into her eyes. Possessed? Was it possible to save her? _Too late._ There was a sudden knot in her throat and she darted out of the office and down the stone stairs. It took all her willpower not to run full tilt to the barn.

Blackwall hadn’t been staying there since Evelyn had returned to Skyhold, but somehow, Taashath _knew_. “Blackwall,” she said, spotting him sitting in the chair by the smoldering logs in the small firepit. No reaction. “Blackwall,” she repeated and held a hand out. Her vision went fuzzy and she blinked, felt the tears roll down her cheeks because she knew. A mug dangled from the hand hanging down at his side. His other hand lay in his lap, the small carved bird laying gently on his upturned palm.

Taashath wanted to scream. Wanted to lash out and hurt something, someone. _Too late. Too late. I was too late_. Cole’s words came back to her. _He helps. When he is there, she is able to break through. He makes her stronger_. There was no denying that Cole had meant Blackwall, and now, Blackwall was gone. Did that mean Evelyn was lost to them now? Turning slowly, she headed for the large doors and saw a scout walking by. “Scout,” she called and the woman turned, looked at her.

“Yes?” the woman asked cautiously.

“Go… please go get Cullen. Something has happened and… please, just go get him.” It was hard to get the words out. She felt like she was choking on them. Taashath wiped at the tears that were continuing to roll down her cheeks.

“Of course, my lady,” then she was gone and Taashath watched her for a moment, saw her run up the stone stairs to Cullen’s office before turning and walking back into the barn.

 

Cullen was half dressed when he heard the door to his office open. “Commander?” it wasn’t Taashath’s voice.

“What is it?” he called, tugging on his boots.

“Your-uh, Taashath requested you meet her at the barn,” the woman said as Cullen made his way down the ladder and he frowned. “She was… she was crying.”

Fear was a heavy weight in his chest and before he even realized what he was doing, Cullen was running down the stone stairs and toward the barn. He blinked as he stepped through the doors, eyes adjusting to the dimness. Taashath stood a few feet away, her arms wrapped around her middle, shoulders hunched and she looked small, broken. He followed her gaze. Blackwall sat in a chair, with such a stillness about him that it could only mean one thing. “Darling,” he breathed out and she turned to him, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Too late,” she said and it was a quiet sob.

Cullen was in front of her in the next heartbeat, his arms wrapping around her tightly as she sobbed, her face pressing against his throat. Beyond Taashath, Cullen took in the scene. A piece of paper was tacked to the rocking toy he’d been building. Looked as if it was finally finished. “Darling, why don’t you-” he was going to tell her to check on Miri, but he worried what Taashath’s reaction might be if the woman had passed in the night. “Go to my office,” he finished, drawing back enough to cup her cheek. “I’ll take care of the Warden.”

“She did this,” Taashath said quietly, her voice thick with tears and Cullen held in a sigh. He still wasn’t sure what he believed in regards to Evelyn.

“Go on,” he murmured, nudging her toward the doors. “Stay there, and I’ll be up as soon as I finish up here.” Cullen didn’t particularly want to leave Taashath alone, but the matter of Blackwall did need to be seen to.

Taashath pulled away, glancing toward Blackwall’s body before she took a step toward the door. “You don’t believe me,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Cullen. “Do you?”

“I-” What could he say? “I don’t know, love.” Then she was gone, and he hoped that she had done as he’d said and went to his office. Crossing to the worktable he looked at the piece of paper, eyes scanning the scrawl.

_I lied about everything. Warden Blackwall died years ago. Thom Rainier should have died a long time ago._

He sent for a few soldiers and told them to keep everything quiet. Cullen needed to find Evelyn first. He wanted to be the one to tell her. He wanted to see the look in her eyes when she found out. If Taashath was right, and Evelyn was possessed, they were in trouble. Cullen didn’t have to search hard to find her. He was on his way to Josephine’s office when he spotted her walking down the main hall. “Inquisitor,” he said, inclining his head. “A moment, please? In the War room.”

There was a slight hesitation, then a small curve of her lips. “Of course, Commander.” The tone of her voice set him on edge. Josephine shot them a questioning look as they walked past, but Cullen gave her a slight shake of his head before they went in and closed the door. “To what do I owe this unexpected… pleasure, Commander? Change your mind about my previous offer?”

Cullen clenched his hands into fists where he had then held behind his back. “Warden Blackwall is dead.” The words were harsh and a part of him felt cruel for the callousness in which he told her. But he was searching for the reaction.

She didn’t even blink. Her eyes were utterly devoid of any emotion. “And?” Evelyn backed up until she bumped into the edge of the table before leaning her weight on it. “Come on, Commander. We both know you could use a good hard rut. No one has to know.”

It was startling. He imagined the woman who had come to him, with tears in her eyes after the bakery had burned down. Cullen had been cruel to her, lashed out because he was worried about Taashath. But her concern had been genuine, hadn’t it? Could she truly have faked it? The woman sitting on the edge of the war table now, with one hand trailing up the inside of her thigh was not the same person.

Stepping forward, he caught first one hand, then the other and pinned them at the small of her back. Evelyn licked her lips and stared up at him. He stared into her eyes, searching. “Yes,” she breathed out, quickly wrapping her legs around his waist.

“No,” he bit out, he would never betray Taashath. There was no attraction there. He felt nothing for her, except pity.

“I won’t tell the ox.” His jaw clenched and he felt his blood begin to boil and his grip on her wrists tightened.

The door opened and Cullen jerked away from Evelyn before meeting Leliana’s inscrutable gaze. “I heard about what happened to Warden Blackwall, I’m sorry for your loss, Inquisitor.”

Evelyn shrugged sliding off the war table. “He wasn’t Warden Blackwall. The man was named Thom Rainier. He told me last night, confessed all his sins. He said he would be leaving Skyhold. His death means nothing.” She walked past Leliana and out the door and the red-haired woman raised a brow as she looked back at Cullen.

“Close the door,” he said warily. “I’ll tell you everything I know.” So he did. Informed Leliana of everything that Taashath suspected. Including the thought that Talon might be able to help.

“I’ll write to her again, see if she can’t hurry. The fewer people that know about this, the better.”

Cullen agreed with that. "I need to go to Taashath," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. 


	52. Chapter 52

Taashath sat on the small couch in Cullen’s office, arms wrapped around her stomach, trying to hold herself together. Blackwall was dead. Had they lost all hope of saving Evelyn? Cole had told her she would be able to save Evelyn, but that was before. And honestly, Taashath had no idea how do go about it. She’d never done anything like that. Saarebas was a weapon. Taashath was… just a woman.

“It made her watch.” Taashath looked up and saw Cole standing a few feet away.

“What?” she asked, shaking her head a little.

“It killed Thom. He was Thom to her. Untangled the knots. Forgave. He killed, but she forgave him. Poison in a cup. A gentle smile, just like hers. It made her watch him die.”

Gut twisting, Taashath pressed a hand to her mouth, the thought made her feel ill. “Can she still be saved? Is Evelyn still in there?”

Cole was silent for several moments then he gave a little shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know. I can’t get close enough now. It’s stronger. The last thread holding her here was him.”

“How do I do it? How could I possibly get in her mind and overpower that thing?”

He crossed to sit down on the floor in front of her and began to explain. She didn’t understand it, but somehow she knew it was the only way. If they waited for Talon there was no way Evelyn would survive. “You need to be stronger,” Cole said and then there was a bottle of lyrium in his hand. She stared at it, uncertain. She understood that most mages used it regularly, Templars used it as well. Cullen, who had fought so hard to quit it, suffered because of that choice.

 _Just this once_ , she thought, twisting the bottle and watching the bright blue liquid swirl inside the bottle.

“What are you doing?” Cullen’s voice cut through the quiet of the room and she saw him standing in the doorway, eyes locked on the bottle of lyrium. Taashath had the sudden, ridiculous urge, to hide it behind her back.

“Talon won’t get here in time,” Taashath said softly.

“No,” he said between clenched teeth. “Absolutely not.” Cullen stalked across the room and yanked the bottle from her hand before turning on Cole. “Get out.”

The boy vanished between one heartbeat and the next. “Cullen,” Taashath got to her feet and he whirled around to face her again.

“That… _thing_ cannot be trusted.”

Shoulders sagging, Taashath sunk back down to the couch and rested her head in her hands. She and Cullen would never see eye to eye on the matter, she knew that. “You still don’t believe that she’s possessed.” When he didn’t respond she looked up at him, saw his hands curled into fists, the hard line of his jaw clenched tight, his entire body ridged.

“Talon is on her way, she can handle the matter,” he finally said.

“If we wait, there is no way Evelyn will come out even remotely intact, if at all.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Cole says that Blackwall was the last thread-”

“Cole says,” it was practically a snarl. “How do you know it isn’t a ploy to get a demon in your head?”

Taashath shook her head a little. She understood his wariness, given his history. “Why? What would be the end game in that? I’m no one.”

“You’re a powerful mage, a favorite for demons, though most aren’t picky.” Cullen rubbed his hand over his mouth.

It was a long time before Taashath spoke again. “The Inquisition needs her.”

“And I need you!” Cullen all but shouted. The vehemence in his voice startled her. “You have never done anything like this before. How do you know you’ll come out unscathed? It could kill you!” Crossing to where she sat, he crouched down in front of her and took her hands in his. “There are other mages that are a part of the Inquisition. Solas, Vivienne, Dorian, they can do this. Why does it need to be you?”

“Evelyn doesn’t trust them.” It was a simple declaration. Taashath knew it down to her core, that if anyone could reach Evelyn, it would be her. “Thedas needs her.”

Cullen shifted closer, took her face between his hands, his thumb rubbing along her lip. “You have no idea what I’d do to keep you safe, Taasha. Sacrificing Evelyn… I’d do it.”

Taashath’s jaw trembled and she covered Cullen’s hands with her own. “And if it were your life on the line… I’d do the same thing. But I know you wouldn’t let me stand in the way of you trying to do the right thing.”

Foreheads pressed together, Cullen closed his eyes. “And you won’t let me stop you from doing this, I know. If you allow any harm to come to yourself, I will be very, very angry with you.” His voice was thick with tears and Taashath closed her eyes to try and hold back her own.

“Understood, Kadan.” Taashath took Cullen’s face between her hands and held it for a moment, staring into depths of his eyes. “We agreed on forever, didn’t we?” A small smile tugged up the corner of her mouth.

“We did,” Cullen murmured. “I love you, Taasha darling.” She tugged him closer and claimed his lips in a sweet kiss. She would never willingly give this man up. She would do everything in her power to come back to him.

“I love you, Cullen,” she murmured then slowly withdrew. “I need the lyrium,” she told him.

Cullen reluctantly stood up and crossed to where he’d set the bottle on the edge of the desk. He stared at the bottle. “I don’t like the idea of you taking it,” he said, walking back to Taashath where he held it out to her.

“Neither do I, but, I need to be stronger.” Popping the cork out of the bottle she drew in a deep breath, met Cullen’s gaze for a moment before bringing the bottle to her lips. She drank deeply. The liquid was like fire and ice combined as gulped it down. Almost immediately she felt her magic spark. So much easier to reach. It would be effortless to cast the flames into her hand.

Pushing up to her feet she stood in front of Cullen for a moment, felt the lyrium coursing through her, bolstering her connection to the Fade. “Maker, that is-” she gave her head a little shake. He was eyeing the now empty bottle and her heart gave a little kick in her chest. “Cullen?”

“Be careful, darling.” One more tender kiss and she slipped from Cullen’s office and went in search of Evelyn. The worry began to gnaw at her as she made her way across the landing to the stone stairs. What if she wasn’t strong enough? What if she couldn’t do it? What if she failed? The Inquisition needed Evelyn. There were still Fade rifts. Corypheus had yet to be defeated.

“Evelyn,” Taashath said, a short while later when she found her standing on the far side of the ramparts. The woman stood, back ramrod straight as she stared out over the mountain.

“You should have gone with the Orlesian,” Evelyn said and Taashath froze. “He paid a lot of money to take you… would have saved me so much time and energy… would have saved lives. What was that dwarf's name? Oh well.” Evelyn turned with a shrug and Taasha nearly stepped back. The emptiness in Evelyn’s gaze was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t hate, they were just void of any emotion.

Taasha realized she should have gone to check on Miri first, made sure she was okay. But it was too late now. If she didn’t do this now, she might never got another chance.

“But I’m so glad you came to find me, it’ll be messy, but once you’re gone...” she trailed off and turned, taking a step toward Taasha. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Cullen for you.” She held something out and Taashath frowned, reaching out on reflex. One of Evelyn’s hands curled around Taashath’s wrist, then with the other she pressed a dagger into her palm.

It all happened so fast. Taashath was still registering the fact that she had a dagger in her hand when Evelyn jerked her forward. “What are you-” The blade pierced fabric and flesh and Evelyn hissed through clenched teeth.

“The Commander can’t protect you now,” Evelyn said, shoving Taashath away, the blade went with her. The dark red stain bloomed on Evelyn’s side. Then she screamed.

Heavy footsteps clattered on the stone as soldiers ran to them and Taasha realized she’d lost her only chance of saving Evelyn. The Silence stole her breath, then she was tackled to the ground. Someone ripped the dagger from her hand and several swords were directed at her, mere inches from her face.

A few feet away, Evelyn lay on the ground, sobbing. “She tried to kill me!”

“What is going on?” Cullen’s voice sliced through the commotion. His eyes found her face, then he took in the scene. What else could he do? Taasha didn’t blame him. “Get the Inquisitor to the healer, now,” he barked at someone.

“She tried to kill me, Cullen!” Evelyn shrieked. “You can’t let this stand!”

Shoulders sagging, he heaved a sigh. “Take Taashath down to the cells. Oliver, you will stand guard.”

A short while later, Cullen stood in the War room with Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra. “While I don’t agree with many of the Inquisitor’s choices,” Cassandra said, casting a sidelong glance at Josephine. “What proof do you have that she is possessed?”

“Taashath has said-” he broke off because even Cullen realized how absolutely absurd it sounded. She has had dreams and claims a spirit named Cole has visited and told her.

“While I do like Taashath, the animosity between her and the Inquisitor is legend,” Josephine said, ever the diplomat.

“Are you implying that Taashath is out for some sort of revenge?”

“She did stab her,” Leliana intoned.

“If Taasha were going to try to kill Evelyn, she would have used her magic. Something else happened out there. The healers even said the wound was practically superficial.” Cullen rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

“Cullen,” Josephine murmured. “It is no secret that Taashath and Warden Blackwall,” she paused. “Well, Thom Rainier, as we now know, were quite close. Perhaps… it was jealousy. It was quite obvious he was poisoned and it is no secret that Taashath knows her herbs.”

At a loss for words, Cullen simply stared at the women. He didn’t believe it, he wouldn’t. But, Maker’s breath, was there a chance they might be right? Could he be blinded by his feelings for her?

“You claim that Cole, the… spirit, that Evelyn banished from Skyhold months ago, has spoken with her, is, in fact, the one that old her the Inquisitor was possessed. Madam de Fer believed it to be a demon when she first saw it. Perhaps...” Josephine trailed off, leaving it unspoken.

“Your feelings for Taashath make it impossible for you to be impartial in this matter, Commander,” Cassandra said.

“Yeah,” he muttered, feeling overruled and unsure. “You are correct. I…” Curling his hands into fists he drew in a deep breath. “I leave the matter in your hands.” Cullen took a step back, then headed for the doors.


	53. Chapter 53

****The cell was damp, and the cold had seeped into Taashath’s bones. She sat on the floor, her back to the stone wall, moldy hay at her feet. It had been hours that she’d been in there. _I failed_ , she thought miserably. The demon had won and Taashath was truly terrified of what may happen next. A quiet skittering and she caught sight of a rat running across the cell. A quiet squeak escaped her lips as she tried to press herself more fully against the wall. It may have been dark, the only light coming from the torch hanging near the stairs, but she could see it’s beady little eyes just fine.

Distantly, Taashath heard the scrape of the door opening, then heavy footsteps as someone made their way down the stairs. Disheveled blonde hair and a familiar face, Taashath scrambled to her feet, curled her fingers around the iron bars. He looked haggard. As if months had passed, not hours. “Cullen? What...”

“What happened, Taashath? She’ll be alright, by the way.”

He sounded so tired, it hurt her heart. “ _It_ was the one behind the auction. Told me that I should have gone with the Orlesian, and other people wouldn’t have died.” Closing her eyes she rested her head against the bar. “Is Miri…?”

“They believe she’ll pull through.”

_Good, that was good_ , Taashath thought. “I didn’t have the chance to do anything. It came toward me, slapped a dagger in my hand and made me stab it. Then told me you wouldn’t be able to protect me this time,” she trailed off as Cullen began pacing the small space.

“I can’t,” he told her. “I am not rational in this case. Josephine, Leliana and Cassandra suggested that you held a grudge against the Inquisitor and that maybe you harbored more than a little resentment about the Warden.”

Her throat felt like it was closing up and she struggled to swallow. “Is that what you think?” Tears blinded her.

“You are the only one who has seen Cole, spoken with him.”

“Oh,” Taashath took a step back from the bars, then another. “Well, then. What will happen now?” Of all the things she’d been through, this hurt the most. Taashath backed up against the wall and slid back down it. “Forever would have been nice,” she murmured because she knew, the Inquisitor would have her killed at the first opportunity. “A family,” her jaw trembled. “We never talked about children…I wanted them, though.”

“Taasha,” Cullen’s voice was a broken whisper.

“If I have any say in the matter, I’d prefer my execution not be public, but I suppose that would take the fun out of it for Evelyn. Could I get some paper? I would like to write a few letters if it isn’t too much to ask.”

“Taasha, darling.”

“You should go,” she told him, glancing up at him before quickly looking away.

Cullen was quiet for a few long moments. “I’ll figure something out, darling,” he murmured. “I love you.” Taashath didn’t reply, she just drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. He didn’t want to leave her alone, was afraid of what might happen, afraid of what she might try. But there was nothing he could do standing down there.

“No one goes in there,” Cullen said to Oliver, closing the door behind him. “Do you understand me? If I am not here, that door does not open.”

“Yes, Ser,” Oliver saluted him, then glanced back at the door before looking back to Cullen. “It was a mistake, right? Just a misunderstanding?”

Cullen rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Of course, it was.” He made his way across the courtyard, up to his office and climbed the ladder to their quarters. It felt wrong without her. He wouldn’t sleep, and if he did, it would not be in the bed they shared. Picking up the warmest blanket from their bed, he made his way back down the ladder before he gathered parchment, ink and a quill. The idea of why she wanted paper, disturbed him. Taashath thought that he would allow her to die?

Taking his small burden back down to the prison cells, he handed them off to Oliver. “Take those down to her, will you?”

Oliver opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, not asking the question that Cullen knew he wanted to know. Why me? The young man obeyed, disappearing through the door, then returned a few short moments later. “She said thank you,” Oliver told him.

Cullen nodded, then returned to his office where he sat at his desk. She could go to Mia’s. She’d be safe there. But how would he get her out? Oliver would help, he imagined. Who else could he trust though? One of the doors opened and looking up, he found Leliana standing there, looking grim. “What is it?” he shoved to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Nothing,” she waved a hand, coming in and closing the door behind her. “Cole paid me a visit, the boy is… interesting.”

Cullen held his breath, waiting. “Do you believe that it is telling the truth about the Inquisitor?”

The seconds stretched out, each one seeming to last an eternity before finally, Leliana gave a short nod. “I do. Though I did have reason to believe you before when you told me of Taashath’s suspicions.”

“Then why-”

“The Inquisitor cannot know,” Leliana cut him off. “If it suspects, even remotely, that we believe Taashath, that we might side with her, against it, I fear the damage it could do would be extensive.” She sighed softly. “It will still be weeks before Talon arrives, even if she were to drop everything and rush here. We must appease the Inquisitor.”

“I don’t like that Taashath is in that cell.”

“Neither do I,” Leliana told him. “Were you planning on sneaking her out?” Cullen rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, caught. “It isn’t a bad idea. Getting her as far from Skyhold as possible for now.”

“I am certain my sister Mia would take her in, I know that Oliver would accompany her.”

Leliana gave a little nod of agreement. “Yes, I agree. I have a scout that I would entrust with her safety. We have a little time until the Inquisitor recovers. The wound was minor, but I ensured the healers are heavy-handed with the pain tonics, so it is highly unlikely that the Inquisitor will be up on her feet again for a few days. Write to your sister. They will be on their way before dawn day after tomorrow.”

 

It was petty, Taashath though as she eyed the blanket that she had spent many a night with it wrapped around her and Cullen. When Oliver had come down and brought her the parchment, ink and the blanket she had refused it, despite the fact that she was chilled to the bone. She was angry and hurt. Cullen didn’t believe her. And what reason did he have to? He’d been right. She was the only one who had spoken with Cole.

Maybe they were right. Maybe Evelyn truly was just a horrible person. Reaching through the bars to where Oliver had carefully laid the blanket, she tugged and then drew it around her shoulders. Tears welled up in her eyes and she pressed her face into it. So much had happened in such a short time. The bakery, Miri, Blackwall. And now, now she was going to die.

Sitting down with the parchment and quill she tried to put her thoughts into proper words. Cullen would blame himself, Taasha knew that, and she wanted to be sure that he didn’t. That he allowed himself to be happy again. Maybe it was for the best. For all their talk of forever, what kind of future could a Saarebas and a Templar have truly had?

 

Evelyn was a prisoner in her own body. Before, she’d had no memory of anything the demon, because now she knew that is what was in her head, had done. It shoved her back so far and deep within her own mind, she’d had no idea what was happening. She understood why now. Because she’d been strong enough to fight it. Thom had made her stronger. His love for her and her feelings for him had been enough to keep fighting.

He had left her, gone to the barn to wait for her to speak with Leliana. Evelyn had been resolved in her decision. She’d step down as Inquisitor. But she’d found herself in the kitchens, getting a mug of the strong tea that she’d poured a hefty amount of whiskey into. Then she’d dropped something else into it. It had felt wrong. She knew it was wrong.

_Thom smiled at her. “That didn’t take long,” he said, hands sliding along her thighs as she slid to straddle his lap._

_Inside her mind, Evelyn screamed. Don’t drink it! Don’t do it! But her body handed him the mug and he took it. “Everything alright love?”_

“ _It will be,” it said with her voice. He drank and she watched. It was like being trapped behind a wall of glass. She pounded her fists against it and screamed, but her body was no longer her own._

“ _Evie, love?” Thom’s brow furrowed, he peered into the nearly empty mug, then looked at her, and for just a moment, she broke free._

“ _I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she curled her fingers in the front of his shirt. “Oh, Maker, Thom,” her voice broke. “I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t-”_

_His free hand came up to cup the back of her head. “Love,” he whispered his tongue heavy, eyelids dropping. “You’re strong enough. Keep fighting. Don’t give up.”_

“ _I can’t,” she sobbed._

“ _You can,” he insisted. “I know you can,” his voice was a rasp of sound and Evelyn tried to scream. Someone would come. Someone would help him, but she couldn’t. “I love you,” he murmured, his hand slipping from the back of her head. A final breath passed his lips before his head sagged forward._

The demon had a tight enough hold on her now. It could make her watch everything, and there was nothing she could do about it.


	54. Chapter 54

Taashath sat on the floor near the front of her cell, blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Letters written, some a bit more disjointed than others. But she didn’t know how much time she had left. All she could do was hope that everything worked out alright, that Talon would arrive in time and Evelyn would be saved and Cullen would eventually find happiness. Eyes slipping shut, she rested her head against the bars and let her mind drift, thinking how nice it would have been to have made a home with Cullen. A family.

A scrape of sound had Taasha blinking, realizing she must have dozed off. It was dark, the torch burned itself out. She heard a thump and held her breath, waiting. Slowly, quietly as she could Taasha pushed up to her feet. It was so dark, that she was having trouble seeing any details. Heavy footsteps on the stone stairs. _Cullen?_ She was afraid to ask. Was this it? Bile burned her throat and she backed away from the door.

Her connection to the Fade vanished and she sucked in a harsh breath, the spell felt messy. She realized the Templar who had cast it couldn’t see her and had simply spread it out in a wide net. Light filled the room and Taashath saw a Templar standing there, face impassive. The spell grew stronger then, effectively crippling her.

There was a low chuckle from behind the Templar and Evelyn stepped into view. “Oh, Taasha, darling,” she drawled, walking closer, in one hand she held the keys to her cell, the other hand, a dagger. “It’s a shame you’re such a coward, just like the Warden. Why couldn’t you just face your choices?”

Taashath struggled to stay upright under the onslaught of the Silence that seemed to be pulling her down. “I didn’t do anything,” Taashath snarled, “and neither did Blackwall.”

“Oh, but you tried to kill me.” Evelyn swung the cell door open, then held the dagger in front of her. “And the Warden, oh his crimes were many. Evelyn was weak. Pathetic. He showed her a little attention and she fell for it all. Forgave him all his crimes. I did them both a favor.”

Taashath was on her hands and knees, and every breath hurt. Well, you did want a private death, she thought bitterly. Evelyn stopped just out of her reach. Was Evelyn still in her head? Was there anything left of the woman she had begrudgingly grown to like? But she knew, with the Templar casting the Silence over her, there was no way she could do anything about it. “Bitch,” Taashath hissed and lunged forward, slamming into Evelyn’s legs.

The woman shouted as she fell backward. Swinging her hand with the dagger out, leaving a trail of fiery pain in its wake over Taashath’s back. A flicker of movement caught Taasha’s eye, and she thought for a moment she was out of her mind with the pain, but then she saw Cole, standing behind the Templar. Then the Templar was crumpling to the ground, and the Silence was gone.

Evelyn scrambled back but slammed into the iron posts. “No!” she shouted as Taashath reached out, fingers curling around her wrist.

Distantly, Taashath felt the stabbing pain of the dagger being slashed against her arm, but after a few moments, it all disappeared and she stood face to face with a demon in her mind.

 

“ _Wake up_ ,” the voice was a whisper in his ear but it had Cullen jerking awake. “ _Hurry_.” He was sitting at his desk, having dozed off in the chair, but he found himself jumping to his feet and grabbing his sword on his way out the door. Taasha, he had to get to Taasha. He had no idea why, but his heart was pounding wildly in his chest as he ran across the courtyard to the cells.

Oliver lay in a pool of blood at the top of the stairs leading down to the dungeon, and Cullen reached out, felt the man’s unsteady pulse and willed him to hold on, just a little longer. It was silent as he made his way down the stairs and he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. A Templar lay at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious. The cell door was open and his blood ran cold at what he saw. Taashath was on her knees, bleeding from slashes along her arm that held tight to Evelyn’s wrist.

Evelyn sat with her back against the front of the cell, dagger raised up, as if to bring it down in a slashing motion, but she was frozen, her mouth open in a silent scream. “What-” he stepped forward, deeply disturbed by the scene in front of him. The pupils of Taashath’s eyes were so wide, the gold was barely even visible and they looked completely empty. Blood trickled from her nose.

“Don’t touch them,” Cole appeared on the other side of them, looking intently between them. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get in. But she could. She was the only one who could.”

There was a small whimper from Evelyn, Taashath’s grip tightened and he could see the sweat dripping down her temple. He stepped forward again, hand outreached, but then he froze in fear. What would happen if he did touch them? The seconds stretched out into eternity.

Finally, the dagger slipped from Evelyn’s hand. Taashath jerked back. She blinked slowly and Cullen watched a tear roll down her cheek. Head tilting back, her glassy eyes focused on him for a moment. “Templar.”

“Taasha,” Cullen said softly, hand reaching out toward her.

 _“Asit tal-eb. Katara Saarebas. Taashath-eb. Taashath-eb. Nehraa aqun ebra kata.”_ She held her hands up in front of her as if to ward off a blow. Then she went still, stared intently at her bloodied wrists, before spitting out a string of Qunlat that Cullen couldn’t grasp.

“Taasha, darling.” He went down onto his knees and she looked at him again, shrank back, and then her eyes rolled back in her head before she collapsed. “Taasha! Taashath!” Cullen dove forward and gathered her into his arms. Looking up he saw Cole standing over them all. “Get help!” he yelled and the boy blinked, then vanished. “Darling, darling, wake up, please, Taasha,” he begged, smoothing her hair back from her face. He had to go get help because he had no illusions that Cole was going for anyone. Evelyn sat slumped against the front of the cell and he wasn’t sure if she was even breathing. Moments later, when Cullen heard the commotion of people rushing into the room.

 

Hours passed and Cullen found himself sitting in the clinic, once again beside a cot that held Taashath. This time, she was far worse off. She’d been cleaned up, her injuries bandaged. Evelyn lay on a cot not far away. Breathing slow and even.

_She pulled the demon into her mind. She couldn’t get around it, couldn’t find Evelyn. She pulled it in and it slashed and cut, but she wouldn’t give up until it was dead._

Late the next night, Evelyn woke with a gasp, scrambling from the cot, she collapsed onto the floor on her hands and knees, horrible gasping sobs escaping her. Cullen watched her, dispassionate. Finally, she managed to get her breathing under control and looked around, her eyes coming to rest on Cullen and Taashath. She flinched at the coldness in his gaze. “Cullen?” her voice cracked and she pushed up to her feet. “Is she… oh, Maker.” Taashath’s cheeks were hollow, her face drawn. Bandages wrapped around her forearm. “Taasha saved my life,” Evelyn managed to get out, her arms wrapping around her stomach. “If it weren’t for her… I…” Her left hand curled tight into a fist around the anchor. “She’s strong. She’s… so is so much braver than I am. Taashath will be fine.” Evelyn reached out, wanting to touch her, to reassure herself that Taasha was alive and breathing, but one look from Cullen had her withdrawing again.

A healer suddenly bustled over and Evelyn waved them off, ducking out through the door, she made her way to the tower, found Leliana sitting at her desk writing letters. The woman gave her a wary look. “Inquisitor,” she said a slight hesitation in her voice.

“I want to step down as Inquisitor. It’s apparent I’m not suited-” her voice cracked and she silently cursed herself for being weak. He’s dead. He’s dead and I killed him. All the things the demon had done were there. They were in her mind, battering at her and she didn’t know how long she could ignore them before they broke her.

“The Inquisition cannot stand to lose you as their face. The people have grown accustomed to you being the leader.” Evelyn opened her mouth to protest, but Leliana cut her off. “You will act only as the Inquisitor in name. Decisions will be made by Lady Montilyet, Commander Cullen, Seeker Pentaghast and myself. In the event that you are away from Skyhold, and a critical decision must be made, you will look to Seeker Pentaghast.”

Evelyn nodded a little. “Understood.” She truly believed the only reason they were allowing her to live was due to the fact that she bore the anchor.

“Are you well enough to travel?”

“Yes,” Evelyn answered automatically, though she felt anything but. She was exhausted, physically and mentally.

“You’ll leave for Adamant Fortress at dawn tomorrow. You are to meet Hawke and her Warden companion there.”

“Alright,” she murmured, turned to go, but then stopped. “Blackwall-”

“You mean Thom Rainier?”

It was a punch to the gut. She remembered writing the confession letter. Pinning it to the rocking toy. Leaving him alone. “Has his body been disposed of?”

“Not yet, it’s been stored in the catacombs below Skyhold.”

“Thank you,” Evelyn said then left, making her way down into the bowels of the castle. His body was laid out on a stone slab. Tears blurred her vision as she made her way to him. Sinking down beside his body, she drew her thighs to her chest and pressed her face against her knees. The tears fell fast and hard, making it difficult to breathe. But once they started, they wouldn’t stop. She’d been weak. She’d failed so many people. It didn’t matter that a demon had been in her head, she hadn’t been strong enough to stop it, so everything that demon had done, it was her fault.


	55. Chapter 55

Saarebas sat on the floor in the corner of the room they said was hers. There was a plush leather chair, and a comfortable looking bed, but Saarebas knew better. _It’s a trick_. She knew that it must be. She remembered Kirkwall. Remembered blood and death and being dragged out, beaten. The Templar with golden curls.

He had been there when she woke. _Taasha, darling._ He had called her that again and again. Saarebas must die. Her kith was dead. _Years dead. Seven years since Kirkwall,_ the red-haired woman said. A lie. What did they want from her? She couldn’t return to the Qun.

_Taasha, darling._

Did she even want to?

Cullen. The Templar. Her chest felt tight when she looked at him and she didn’t know why. Didn’t understand it.

He kept reaching for her. She flinched each time. Saarebas remembered the pain of the Silence. Remembered him breaking her connection to the Fade. He stopped reaching for her.

“ _Your name is Taashath,” the woman called Leliana said, speaking Qunlat. The Templar knew Qunlat too. Though he stumbled over words and struggled to shape the phrases with his lips._

Heat flushed her skin at the thought of the Templar. _Cullen_. Though she didn’t understand why. He looked at her with such grief in his eyes.

The cat butted his head against her hand and she stroked her fingers through his coarse fur. _Parrot_. A silly name for a cat. They didn’t need to speak in Qunlat, she understood words she had no way of knowing.

_A demon_. She had fought a demon. That is what they told her. But Saarebas knew better. Saarebas was not strong enough to stand against a demon. That was why she was supposed to be in chains. Bound. Controlled.

A knock on the door and she looked up. It opened a crack. “Taasha?” The Templar. She watched him inch the door open slowly. “I brought,” he said softly, finally nudging the door open enough to step into the doorway, “something to eat.” He stood for a moment, eyes flicking across the room before finding her. He paused, drew in a breath, then he moved slowly.

He met her gaze and she knew he was searching for something. She ducked her head, knew he wouldn’t find it. He let out a quiet breath before he crouched down beside her, still moving slow as if she were a skittish animal. _Aren’t you?_ Bread and stew with big pieces of meat and vegetables. Saarebas bit her lip, knew she could eat those things. Her lips no longer sewn shut. Years.

_Seven years._

Beside the bowl of stew sat a small pie that smelled sweet. The filling was deep red. Some kind of berry, she knew. Because he brought her some sort of sweet treat with every meal he delivered. Pies. Cookies. Cake. It wasn’t something she had in the Qun, and Saarebas devoured them first.

“Taasha,” he murmured and she glanced up, meeting his gaze. Her fingers itched to reach out, to trace the scar on her lip. As if she had any right. She drew her hands against her stomach, curled them into fists to prevent them from acting without her consent. She had reached for him before, always caught herself before he noticed. “You know you do not have to stay in this room,” he told her, as he had many times since he’d led her to it, and she ducked her head. “Taasha,” he said again, voice a little sharper this time.

Immediately she looked up again. “Do you understand? You are not a prisoner in this room.”

But she knew it had to be some sort of trick.

“Maker, damn it, Taashath, tell me you understand.”

She knew the words, but couldn’t get her lips to form them, so she nodded. Cullen heaved out a breath and closed his eyes, one hand coming up to rub his temple. He looked so tired. Broken. He wasn’t sleeping. _Nightmares_. Though she had no way of knowing that. She wanted to reach out, the smooth away the crease between his brows. To hold him. It would get her killed, she knew it.

Sinking down on the floor not far from her, he leaned against the wall, his arms resting on his raised knees. “ _Eat_ ,” he said, though he said it in Qunlat, and there was something about the way he said it. Like a private joke.

 

Evelyn sat apart from her companions. They didn’t trust her, and she understood that, accepted it, but it still hurt. Her advisors decided that her inner circle needed to know that she’d been possessed. Only the inner circle. They hadn’t liked her before, but now, they trusted her even less. So she’d kept a distance from them, to make it easier on them so they didn’t need to pretend.

“Here.” She looked up and saw the Grey Warden Alistair standing beside her, holding a bowl out to her.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she told him but took the proffered item. He gave a shrug of one broad shoulder, then sat down beside her, another bowl in hand and began to eat. “What are you doing?” it came out a startled question. Because he knew.

They had fallen into the Fade and the demon had spoken, they all heard what it said.

Alistair froze with the spoon halfway to his mouth and peered at her from the corner of his eye. “Eating?” he said.

“No,” Evelyn shook her head. “Why are you sitting here with me?”

_Evelyn stood with flanked by Sienna Hawke and Alistair Therin, staring down a massive demon. The two had bickered, arguing who would be left behind. “Neither of you are staying here. I’ve been the cause of too many deaths already. I refuse to stand by and allow another one.”_

“I think the more pertinent question is why are you sitting here all alone, in the cold, instead of cozy beside the fire?”

Pushing the food around with her spoon in the bowl she gave her head a little shake. “They don’t want me there. You heard… you heard the demon. You heard them. You know.”

“That you survived being possessed,” he said with a nod. “It is rare. I’ve seen it happen before, Connor.” A slight twist of his lips. “To be able to walk away from something like that..” he trailed off, resumed eating. “It takes an amazing strength of will,” he finally finished.

It took a long time to find the words, her throat tight with remembered pain. “It wasn’t me,” she murmured. “I mean, I’m not strong. Taashath, she is the one who managed to save me.” And Thom. Thom had kept her sane and she had killed him.

A month and a half had passed since the incident since she’d left Skyhold with no idea whether Taashath would be alright or not. She’d asked Cullen to write to her if there was any change, the fact that he hadn’t left a rock sitting hard on her chest.

“You aren’t giving yourself enough credit,” he told her and she gave a sharp shake of her head before pushing up to her feet.

“No, I don’t deserve any.” Evelyn retreated to her tent and sprawled out on her bedroll. Reaching up, she found the small wooden carving Thom had done for her, of the little bird in flight. Her jaw trembled. She had pressed it into his hand after he’d drank the poison, found it again beside his body in the catacombs. “I’m so sorry, Thom.”

She’d been having dreams about him ever since, and in each one he was far too kind. She desperately wanted him to be angry with her, to hate her for all that she had done. But Evelyn knew better, remembered the feel of his arms around her, reassuring her that she was okay, that he would never hate her, no matter what she’d done, because he loved her. Tears blurred her vision and she closed her eyes, clutching the bird to her chest.

 

Talon was full of nervous energy as they made the final climb to Skyhold. “Amor,” Zevran said and she turned, flashed him a smile.

“I’m alright,” she reassured him, reaching a hand out to brush the top of their sleeping child’s head. Vaeril wasn’t theirs biologically, but they had taken the boy who had no other family and loved him all the same. “We’re almost there, I can rest once we reach Skyhold.”

“You have bruises under your eyes,” he said, one hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“I’m alright,” she told him again, covering his hand with her own as she turned her face to kiss his palm. Talon knew that Zevran didn’t believe her. She was exhausted, had barely slept for weeks. The Calling that she knew couldn’t be real, wouldn’t allow it to be real, beckoned. _So close_ , she thought. _We’re so close, I can’t give up yet_.

They crested the final rise, saw the village off to one side, and the main gate that lead into the grounds of Skyhold. Morrigan and Keiran were there, and she was eager to see them. She hadn’t seen the boy since he’d been first born. Leliana. Taashath. Cullen. The thought of him caused a tightness in her chest. Would he hate her?

A guard stopped them as they crossed through the massive gate, but as soon as she told him who they were, he let her go. Her eyes darted everywhere, taking in each detail. _I thought I’d have more time_ , she thought, her eyes coming to rest on the tall man who barely resembled the boy she’d known and loved. Taashath stood tall beside him.

Zevran’s hand slipped into hers, and she opened her mouth to call out to Taashath, but at that same moment, Cullen turned, his gaze met hers and she stilled, waiting to see his reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~The last few weeks I have noticed a significant drop in interaction with this fic and I'm not sure how much is due to the fact that this story has gotten ridiculously long or just that my storytelling is atrocious. Regardless, I feel like it's probably time to bring the story to an end. There are some plot points that need to be addressed - and honestly, I've been struggling with this chapter and whether I should have rewritten it and just waved the magic happily ever after wand and ended it now. But here it is, for better or worse - only a few more chapters to go.~~


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you all so much for the comments on the last chapter. I was feeling quite discouraged, but knowing that people are still reading this and actually enjoying it means the world to me. Sorry for my whining!
> 
> Second, Sorry this chapter took so long to get out! I went out of town and then got snowed in and I had to go buy a notebook so I could at least write words down, even if I couldn't type them up and post a new chapter.

It took Cullen quite a bit of cajoling to get Taashath to finally agree to go with him and leave the room she’d been all but hiding in since she’d woken all those weeks ago. He did his best to ignore the hurt he felt. She didn’t remember the last several years. Didn’t remember him.

No, she did remember him, but only as the Templar who had nearly killed her on the Wounded Coast. Each time she flinched away from him, Cullen felt his heart break a little more. What if she never remembered? It was possible. But all the mages he’d spoken with, Vivienne, Dorian, Solas, and one of the healers, all agreed that she’d literally dragged the demon into her own mind, and it lashed out. Cut into her mind, her memories, in some attempt to gain a foothold. But getting her to trust him enough to leave her room was at least progress, he hoped. 

Then, he saw the couple making their way through the gate and toward them. She looked different, older, of course, it had been ten years. Too thin, as if coming off a bout of illness. Her hair fell down past her shoulders. In reality, looking nothing like the girl he knew. But Cullen recognized her the moment he saw her. The elvhen man beside her said something, snagging her attention for a moment before she took his hand and they began to make their way to where Cullen stood. He felt Taashath shift, about to retreat. “Wait,” he said, voice gentle as he reached out and caught her hand.

Taashath made a sound of distress and Cullen gently squeezed, though he knew most of the distress was likely due to him touching her. “It’s okay,” he told her quietly.

“Hello, Cullen,” Talon said. “Taasha,” her smile was warm but she seemed to realize something was wrong. “What-” her brow furrowed.

Cullen was grateful that Leliana called out a moment later and he tugged Taashath away from the scene he couldn’t handle just yet. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “Talon is a friend. Well, your friend. I am fairly certain she doesn’t much care for me.” They were through the gates and halfway to the village when Cullen realized he still held Taashath’s hand. She hadn’t pulled her away, her fingers loosely laced with his. His throat felt tight.

“ _Where are we going?_ ” she asked in Qunlat and Cullen was glad he’d taken the time to learn it.

“ _Something to show you._ ” Though his handle on the language left much to be desired. “There is something,” he spoke in common now, because he knew she understood it, “I want to show you.”

It was something Cullen had been unaware of at the time. Lead by a quickly recovering Oliver, the blow to the head had appeared far worse than it was, he had rallied nearly everyone in the village to rebuild the bakery and the shop next door. Everything was replaced and you’d be hard pressed to find a difference. “It is yours,” Cullen told her, watching her face as they came to a stop.

Her brows drew together and she shook her head a little. “No,” it was barely a whisper.

Cullen was unsure how much to tell her about all she had forgotten. He was afraid of overwhelming her, of scaring her. “You had a tavern in Haven,” he spoke gently and then led her inside. Miri was there and Cullen had been surprised by her willingness to return. “Won’t let some demon scare me off,” she’d told him. Her injuries were extensive, the burn scars unlikely to ever fade much, but her will was undaunted.

 

Taashath couldn’t figure out why she had yet to pull her hand free from Cullen’s. His fingers were big and warm and strangely reassuring. Templar, her mind seemed to wail. A desperate cry that this man was dangerous. The bakery, he said was hers. But it couldn’t be. She didn’t know the first thing about how to bake anything.

Saarebas is a weapon. Nothing more. Nothing less. A dangerous thing.

The Dwarven woman with the painful looking scars, Miri, her name was Miri. She’d come to visit Taashath a few times, with the tiny baby girl who wailed sometimes. Now the girl lay in the arms of someone else who had visited. Oliver. He was a Templar too, though she didn’t know how she knew that.

“Hey,” Miri smiled before picking up a small log and shoving it into the oven.

The sudden fear stole her breath. Miri couldn’t be there. _Flames and smoke_ and Taashath couldn’t breathe.

“Taasha,” Cullen said softly, squeezing her hand. “Darling.”

She took a step back, then another.

_Fire and smoke and flames licking up her back._

Yanking her hand free, she turned and ran out the door. Back through the village, the gate to Skyhold. She was halfway up the stairs when she realized what she was doing. Cullen’s office. Ignoring the sidelong glances from soldiers and spies she retreated to her room near the gardens.

Back pressed against the stone wall she sunk down to the floor. “No!” it was a soft cry of distress as flames engulfed her hands, licked up her forearms, and higher until she was nothing but flame. _Stop!_ She wanted to scream. Taashath closed her eyes and held her breath. _The fire surrounded her, devouring everything and Miri lay at the center of it_.

It took long minutes to calm the flames and when she finally did, she felt hollow. Taashath pressed her hands to her face and wept.

 

Cullen paced the length of his office, raking his fingers through his hair. Idiot, he thought, silently berating himself. He had hoped the bakery might spark a memory or two. Good ones. So much joy tied to it, but it had been a miscalculation. After she fled, Cullen gave her a few minutes before following to check on her and found her curled up on the floor asleep with Parrot burrowed under her chin.

“Hello, Cullen.” He looked up and saw Talon standing in the open doorway.

“Talon,” he murmured, then frowned. “You look like you’re about to fall over. Sit,” he gestured to the couch he had been sleeping on since everything happened.

A small smile graced her features but she didn’t argue as she came in and all but collapsed on the sofa. “You sound like Zevran,” her voice full of so much love when she spoke the man’s name.

“You look… tired.”

Talon laughed quietly. “Ah, Cullen, you always know how to flatter a girl.”

His cheeks flames. “I just-” she waved her hand dismissing his bumbling words and he watched her closely.

“Leliana explained everything,” she said. “How did she like the new bakery?”

Cullen clenched his jaw and raked his fingers through his hair again. “It didn’t help, that is for sure. I don’t know what to do at this point.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, felt the rasp of stubble and couldn’t remember the last time he had shaved. “She is afraid of me.” He hadn’t spoken those words out loud and saying them sliced open his hear. “All she sees is a Templar who nearly killed her.” Talon canted her head to the side, seeing more than he liked. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had even asked for Cole’s help, but the boy had vanished. Rubbing his hands over his face he leaned back against the edge of his desk. “What do I do?”

“I’ll talk to her… see if there is anything...” Healing had always been her best talent, but something like this? “What will you do if she never remembers?”

Cullen opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. It was something he hadn’t allowed himself to think was even a possibility. Though it was a very real possibility. The past seven years had changed both of them, made them into the people they were today. But without that, she was still the terrified Saarebas, unsure of her place in life. “I love her, Tally. Nothing will change that. Even if-” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Even if she hates me. I’ll love her till the day I die.”

Talon pushed up to her feet and looked him over. “All of this aside, you look good, even if you do look like you desperately need a good nights sleep. But, I understand, so I won’t harass you for it. I’ll do everything I can to help.”

“For Taasha,” he said, knowing well enough that Talon likely had never forgiven him for the nasty things he’d said after she had saved all those lives in Kinloch Hold.

“And you, you dummy. I want you to be happy, too.”

“Why? I don’t deserve it.”

Talon closed the distance between them and took his face between her hands. “Well, I say you do, and you can’t argue with me because I said so.”

Cullen cupped her cheek and leaned down to press his forehead against hers for a moment. “I never had the chance to thank you.”

“For what?”

“You saved Taashath. You took her away and you kept her safe. Finding her again, was...” he trailed off. “If there is anything you or Zevran need, just say the word, and it is yours.”

After Talon left his office, Cullen sunk down in his desk chair and pulled the neatly folded letters from the top drawer. His name written on one, in Taashath’s neat handwriting. The letters she had written, thinking she was going to be put to death. He hadn’t read it, too afraid of what he’d find in there. Afraid that she had hated him in the end, or realized that he was not the man she wanted to spend her life with.

If she never remembered, what would he do? Spend the rest of his life seeing that she was happy. Whether it was with him, or not.


	57. Chapter 57

Evelyn grit her teeth as the man dropped back to ride next to her again where she brought up the rear of the caravan. She was already on edge from her earlier conversation with Cassandra, the very last thing she wanted to deal with was Alistair Therin trying to _help_ her.

“What happened with the Lady Seeker this morning?” he asked, glancing over at her.

Clenching her jaw harder, she stared straight ahead, hoping that maybe if she just ignored him he’d go away. Evelyn knew she wasn’t truly the Inquisitor any longer. All major decisions were now up to Cassandra and her former advisors. But Evelyn hadn’t realized that meant she’d no longer be privy to the important things.

_It was ridiculous how hard it had been for Evelyn to work up the courage to approach Cassandra. A simple request, but she had practiced the conversation in her head before tracking down the woman. “Seeker,” she said. “I wanted to make a request, of sorts.”_

_Cassandra’s brows shot up and she stared at her. “What is it?”_

_They had already lost so much time because of her. How many steps ahead had Corypheus gotten? “Would there be any way to move forward against Corypheus sooner, rather than later?” Freeing the Wardens had granted them some leverage, dealt a small blow against Corypheus, but it was minor. The blank expression on Cassandra’s face told Evelyn everything she needed to know. That she had no say in the matter and that the Inquisition would take things at whatever pace they deemed appropriate._

Now, her eyes focused forward, staring at the backs of the Wardens she rode behind. When Evelyn had not banished them and told them to go to Skyhold, she’d nearly expected Cassandra to stop her, to cut her off and send them away. It was likely Evelyn would have left with them. Her heart ached and she blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the sudden burn in her eyes.

“I think there is a game of Wicked Grace tonight once we make camp, you should join us,” Alistair said and she couldn’t figure out why he continued on this route. Trying to drag her into the fold.

“I’ve told you-”

“Yes, you mentioned, they all hate you because you were possessed by a demon,” he waved it off as if it were inconsequential. A minor thing that hadn’t ruined so many lives. “If you would just show them that-”

“What?” she snarled, turning her face look at him. “Show them that I’m not a raging bitch? Too bad, Warden, I am. They know that. They knew that back in Haven. Maybe…” her throat burned with angry tears. “Maybe I’m not doing this for them. Maybe it’s because I hate them.” Alistair looked almost startled at that. “They didn’t stop me. They stood by and watched me ruin peoples lives and they did nothing!” Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “I killed-” Thom’s eyes so full of love as he stared at her, apologizing for not being able to save her as he died. “I don’t want them to _like_ me, because I fucking hate every single one of them.”

Evelyn kicked her horse's flanks hard, jerked the reigns and they were tearing off the trail and away from the Inquisition. She rode hard, head ducked low avoiding branches as she let the horse go wherever she wanted, tears blinding her own eyes. Until the words had spilled from her lips, Evelyn had had no idea how much anger she felt toward everyone in the Inquisition. They should have seen it sooner. They should have stopped her. She should have let Thom speak up when he had been worried. The horse slowed and she saw a lake, large and so blue and completely desolate. Sliding down from the saddle, she walked over, splashed water on her face, trying to wash away the tears, but they wouldn’t stop.

Throwing her head back as she knelt on the sand, Evelyn screamed until her throat burned, then she screamed until she couldn’t. Until her voice was nothing more than a painful croak and then she pressed her face into her hands and wept. Hours later, when she felt the presence at her side Evelyn didn’t react, used to Cole appearing and disappearing over the last few weeks.

“He wants to help,” Cole spoke softly and she glanced at him, knew he was talking about Alistair.

“I don’t want him to,” her voice was a rasp of sound and it hurt to speak. Absently, she wondered if she’d damaged something in her throat from all her screaming.

They were silent for a while, and it was his quiet presence that she’d grown accustomed to. He rarely spoke, just sat beside her when she set off apart from the others. “They wanted to help,” he spoke again, his voice gentle and soothing. “But they didn’t know how. He loved you-”

“Stop,” it came out a sob and she held her hands up, trying to ward off his words. “I don’t… I don’t want to hear that. I-” She hadn’t deserved Thom’s love. Never deserved Alex or Isaak.

  
It was very late by the time Evelyn cleaned herself up and mounted her horse and finally caught up with the caravan. Tents pitched, few were still awake. Evelyn didn’t bother with her own tent, just dragged a blanket from her bag, sat beside an abandoned fire and stared into the flames.

“I want to apologize.” She jerked at the gentle voice, looked up, saw Alistair standing a few feet away.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice like crushed rocks. She saw his frown and shook her head. “You don’t need to. Just…” she waved a hand. “Let it go.” The sooner they returned to Skyhold the better. Alistair would leave, of course, and she could find out what had happened to Taashath. Cullen never wrote and the dread that filled her stomach whenever she thought of Taasha made her ill.

He stood there, for long minutes, watching her, and she was too tired to even care. When he walked away she let her eyes slip shut and wasn’t sure if she hoped for dreams or not. Because when she dreamed she saw Thom and Evelyn wasn’t sure how much more she could take right then. Silent movement beside her, she opened her eyes expecting Cole but found Alistair sitting down beside her, a mug in hand, extended to her.

“Do you hate me, too?” he asked as she reached up, clasped the mug between her hands. She gave her head a little shake, because why would she hate him? Though looking at him made her heart hurt, knowing what Thom might have been if he’d had the chance to truly join the Wardens. _He could have died during the false Calling_ , she reminded herself, because he would have stood against the idea of binding themselves to demons. “I’ll stop,” he told her. “Pushing you. I can… understand your feelings and I am sorry, I had no idea.”

_Neither did I_ , she thought bitterly, then she took a sip of the warm brew in the mug, instantly her throat felt better. “Thank you, Alistair.”

 

The fact that Cullen hadn’t come by her quarters, left a strange aching in Taashath’s chest. She hadn’t seen him since she’d fled the bakery early the day before. Other people had stopped by with meals, including Miri, and Leliana. But not Cullen. She was afraid of him, the Templar who wanted her dead, Taashath tried reminding herself. But she didn’t want him to hate her. Didn’t want him to stop coming to see her. A knock on the door had her looking up expectantly, but when it cracked open, Talon stood there, a tray holding a small teapot, two delicate teacups, and an assortment of cookies.

“Can I come in?” she asked, tentative and Taashath nodded.

Cullen had said Talon was her friend, but she couldn’t remember her. Taashath nodded and watched her as Talon came in and carefully set the tray down on the floor before sinking down across from her. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?” Talon asked and Taashath felt guilty for it when she shook her head. A sad smile graced the elvhen woman’s soft features. “I’m going to try and help, alright?”

“How?” it was a wary question. Taashath noticed the little bundles of herbs on the tray near the cookies and her brow furrowed.

“Any way that I can,” Talon told her. “I’m a mage like you are.”

_Not like me_ , Taashath thought, watching every move that Talon made. The woman began to handle the herbs, a sprig here, a handful there. She’d hold them, close her eyes, and her hands glowed faintly. Soft, gentle light. Nothing like the fire that had coated Taashath’s arms. _Nothing like me_ , she thought again as after touching the herbs, Talon would drop them into the teapot.

“Healing magic has always been what came easiest,” Talon continued. “In the Circle, I had to learn other things, but I always wondered why do they even bother? Most Mages never make it out of the Tower.”

“You did,” Taashath said.

“I did,” Talon agreed, then placed her hands on the sides of the ceramic kettle. They glowed again. The minutes stretched out and then she withdrew her hands, poured the tea into one of the cups, held it in her palms, quiet murmuring of a spell as once more the light filled her hands and spilled into the cup. Then she held it out to Taashath. “It isn’t much, I don’t know if it will help, I honestly don’t know if anything can help.”

Tentatively, Taashath took the cup, stared into it. The pale-colored tea had a hint of purple swirling through it. “What is it?”

“Just tea,” Talon said, pouring some into her own cup, but this one, she didn’t murmur any spells over. “The flowers and herbs, they can help heal the mind. Yours I tried to strengthen it. But I’m not sure if it will work.”

Staring into the cup, she breathed it in, flowers and grass. “You were my friend?”

“I was, I mean, I am.” Talon took a sip of her own tea, then picked up a cookie, eyed it, then set it down and picked up a different one. “Do you remember Kirkwall?”

Taashath took a sip of the tea and sent up a silent prayer that it would work. “I remember the Qunari attacking the city. Slaughtering people in the streets and-” her breath hitched. Flame in her hands. A little boy. His little body thrown against the wall when she refused to kill him. “A Templar saved me from a mob, took me to the coast. Pressed his blade against my throat.” She reached up with one hand, feeling as if that blade rested there, sharp. A trickle of blood.

“What else?” the words a gentle prod.

“Silence and chains and...” Taashath’s hand lifted to her cheek. The deep scars that marred her cheek. Templars. Cullen and Oliver looking down at her as her blood dripped onto the floor.

“Do you remember the rescue?”

Shaking her head she drank more deeply of the tea. “Tell me? Cullen… he won’t. He’s told me a few things, but mostly he just…” He looked at her with pain and longing and she didn’t know why it hurt so much.

“Cullen arranged for you to be rescued from where you were being held. You were spirited away and that is where I came in. Zevran and I. You didn’t speak much Common, but thankfully, I had traveled with a Qunari before, he taught me Qunlat.” Talon continued speaking, telling Taashath stories of their time together, what she knew of her time with Leliana. “Would you like Leliana to visit you, she can tell you more.”

No memories sparked. Not even a trace of one. Tears burned Taashath’s throat because looking at the woman in front of her, she knew that she was supposed to remember her. But she didn’t.

 

Many hours later, Talon sat on the bed, Zevran behind her, gently kneading the muscles of her lower back. “That feels-” she moaned quietly, in deference to the sleeping child a few feet away.

“You do too much,” he chided and she turned her face, smiled at him.

“I sat nearly all day. I sat with Cullen. I sat with Taasha. I sat with Morrigan.” His talented fingers found another spot, pressed and she grunted quietly, then moaned and melted back against him.

“Tell me,” he said, leaning back against the pillows, his arms wrapping around her. Talon recounted her conversation with Cullen. “He has changed.” Zevran had only met the man once and had been tempted to end his life there in that tower after the way he’d spoken to Talon.

“He has,” she agreed, turning her head, nuzzling his jaw. “For the better. He’s so lost right now, I did what I could to Taasha, I’ll keep trying, I don’t know what else to do though.”

“And how is our dear friend, Morrigan.”

“Keiran is so big,” Talon smiled, drowsy as Zevran tugged the blanket up over them. “Such a bright young man. But I see Alistair in his eyes.”

“Speaking of Alistair. Leliana says they are only a few more days ride away.” Talon stilled breath hitching. “Mi amour,” he said against her ear. “We agreed already, you know as well as I do how much he wants this.”

Talon twisted onto her side so she could look into the eyes of the man she had loved for so long. “I know, but… it just seems...I know he’ll do it, he won’t hesitate. But what if it doesn’t work? What if it kills him?”

Zevran’s hand came up to stroke her cheek, slide into her dark hair. “The Calling you hear isn’t farce,” he said, knowing. “Alistair joined before you, so I imagine that our friend hears it too.”

“But to ask him to do this, not knowing if it will work. It should be me, I made it, I should-”

Zevran’s hand dropped down to rest over the smallest swell of her belly. “Alistair would agree with me, on this one, amour. He’ll try your cure without hesitation.”

But there were other Wardens. Others she didn’t love and care for. It was a dark thought and it made her chest feel tight. No, she wouldn’t ask that of them. As the Hero of Ferelden, she knew that they would do anything she asked. Not until she knew for sure it would work, and she silently prayed it would work, and Alistair wouldn’t pay with his life.


	58. Chapter 58

Taashath was restless and angry. It was a bad combination. She paced her small quarters until Parrot demanded to be let out. Nothing was working. The tea that Talon made she drank at least four pots of it a day. Yet nothing. Talon continued to visit, sometimes with Zevran and their child Vaeril. Leliana visited. But Cullen didn’t and Taashath didn’t know why that made her so mad.

Reaching into her pocket she found the coin and worried it between her thumb and forefinger. The bakery. Cullen told her the bakery was hers. But that was impossible. She was Saarebas. _Not for seven years. You haven’t been Saarebas for seven years_.

Slamming out of her room she stormed down the hall. No one stopped her. The few patrols out nodded their head at her, greeted her with warmth, but didn’t try to stop her. Didn’t shrink back in fear. Through the gate she made continued down the short road to the bakery. Iron key in her pocket she stared at the outside. The large glass window, the solid wooden door. Smoke and fire and Miri. Taashath blinked back the sudden tears, slid the key into the lock and turned.

Stepping inside, she closed the door and just breathed. Sweetness hung in the air, mixed with the familiar scent of smoke from the stove. Her chest ached. After lighting a candle she looked around, desperate for anything that might help her mind come back to her.

_You fought a demon. Saved the life of Evelyn Trevelyan. But it left your mind damaged. It may be permanent_.

A copper mixing bowl, shiny and worn from use. She picked it up, stared at it. _Nothing. There was nothing left and Cullen couldn’t stand to be near her anymore_. The bowl slammed against the wall with a rattling clang of metal. A spoon went next. A pan. Heavy, cast iron. It left a dent in the wood, crashed against the bowl when it hit the floor. Methodically, Taashath yanked pots and pans and bowls off shelves and threw them as hard as she could. Until a pile of dented metal lay on the floor beneath the now scarred wall.

Still, her mind was a void and she wanted to scream.

A tentative knock on the door, then slowly it drew open. Oliver stood there, concern written across his face, quietly babbling infant in his arms. “Taashath?” He looked at the pile of debris and then back at her. “Are you alright?”

“You knew me in Kirkwall?” she asked, desperate. Cullen wouldn’t talk to her. She hadn’t seen him in days and it made it hard to breathe. She needed him and she had no idea why and it terrified her.

“Sort of...” he looked at the pile. “Here, take Brisa, I’ll clean this up.”

“No,” Taashath shook her head, crossing to the mess she’d made. “No, I’ll do it. I made the mess, go sit down. I can make...tea?” she knew how to do that. Had seen a ceramic jar containing the dried leaves.

“I’m fine,” he told her, and bounced the little girl in his arms, just to hear her coo. “Are you alright? Did you… remember something?”

Taashath crouched, set to picking up the now dented pots and pans and she was embarrassed for her outburst and grateful she hadn’t broken anything. “No, that’s the problem. I can’t… I saw you in Kirkwall, right?” A small stone cell. Chains on her wrists. Templars over her. Hitting her. Kicking her. Yelling at her. Arms stretched wide they hacked at her hair. Long silver strands fell to the floor at her knees, stained red by her own blood that pooled there.

Oliver sat down on the stool at the counter that divided the front of the bakery from the kitchen area. “Once. Just once,” he said it quietly. “It isn’t a good memory. I have to start before that though, do you mind?” he asked.

“No, just… tell me anything, please.” Ducking his head he pressed a kiss to Brisa’s head. The little girl had taken a hold of his heart the moment he’d held her in his arms and every day that hold grew tighter. “You and Miri? Are you…?”

“No, maybe?” He gave a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s complicated, I’ll get to that but, we have to start back in Kirkwall.” Oliver knew that Cullen had been wary of sharing too much with Taashath, afraid that telling her might not help, but would instead hinder, alter her own memories, change the way she saw things. “I have a sister. She’s a mage, she ended up in the small circle near where my family lived. A talent for healing magic. We didn’t have a lot of money, joining the Templars seemed like the best idea. I had hoped… I could make enough money to send it to my parents, and that I might end up at the same Circle as my sister. Instead, I ended up in Kirkwall.

“I idolized Knight-Captain Cullen the moment I met him. Honestly, I was like a puppy,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “He was a model Templar and I wanted to be just like him. I had only been in Kirkwall a few days when Knight Commander Meredith came to Cullen, wanted to show him something and insisted I see it too. To see what it meant to truly be a Templar.” He paused, stroking a fingertip over the soft down of Brisa’s hair.

Oliver drew in a breath, looked back up to watch Taashath, unsure if telling her was the right thing or not. She had finished putting the pans and bowls away, but she continued to move. Copper bowl on the counter. The jar of flour and sugar next to it. He wasn’t sure she was even aware of what she was doing. “Far beneath the Chantry, in a small stone-walled room, you were chained up, being held by two other Templars in a Silence to prevent you from doing anything.”

Taashath paused, her fingers reaching up to touch her scarred cheek. She didn’t move for several long moments and Oliver held his breath, then she dropped her hand, looked at him. “Then what?” she asked, measuring flour into the bowl. Sugar. Eggs.

“It made me sick to see that, to see how they had abused you. I asked Cullen if that is what it meant to be a Templar. Ready to abandon my commitment if it was. I wouldn’t take part in that. He asked what I thought of the Knight-Commander’s plans for you… public execution or Tranquility.” Her hands stilled as she mixed, knuckles white around the spoon. “Then he told me that no, that wasn’t what being a Templar was supposed to be.

“Days passed and I watched him growing more and more agitated. When Sienna Hawke came to him as we stood our posts, I overheard her words. ‘She’s dead.’ The Commander’s reaction was...” Oliver reached up, scratched his jaw. “If I hadn’t been so obsessed, so determined to be just like him, I might not have noticed. But the grief that filled his eyes at that moment...” Oliver trailed off, drew in a breath. “Word traveled fast, there had been a mage held captive, who had killed the Templars watching over her and herself.”

“Sienna Hawke,” Taashath said quietly, remembering flashes of red hair, magic that made her see horrific things. A white-haired elf who walked beside her. “She killed my kith. I don’t know why she didn’t kill me.”

“From what I heard,” Oliver explained. “During the battle, her spell knocked you unconscious.”

“No, after… in the cave.” Shaking her head she looked down at her hands, stared for a moment before going back to her task. “He thought I was dead.”

Oliver nodded. “He was more remote after that. Angry. It wasn’t just the mages that were afraid of him, Templars were too. Then, the mages started to go missing. Here and there. Always after a confrontation with Cullen. I’d thought he’d snapped. It sickened me to think he was murdering mages. But one night I followed him. A young girl, one who’d caught the eye of more than one of the older Templars. I’d thought the worst.

“Small frame with delicate bones, she lashed out. Managed to shock him before he caught her, cast the Silence over her. I kept my sword in my hand, knowing that I’d kill him if he hurt her. She still fought, even without her magic, but he never hit her. He pinned her arms to her sides as he hauled her down the hidden passageway. There was a locked door. I stood in the shadows, he knocked and then there was a responding one. When the door opened I realized that I hadn’t misplaced my loyalty in Cullen.”

“He saved her?” Taashath asked, hands stilling for a moment as she dropped balls of dough onto the cooking sheet.

“There was a mage living in Darktown. He usually ran with Hawke. The girl was as stunned as I was. Cullen passed her over to Anders and I realized that he hadn’t murdered the missing mages. He’d smuggled them out of the tower and to safety.”

Oliver kept talking, Brisa long since having fallen asleep in his arms as he told Taashath about his time in Kirkwall. Cullen’s stands against Meredith. What he did for the Circle after she was gone. All the while, Taashath continued to work. She baked cookies and sweet rolls, all without seeming to realize what she was doing. “I saw you in Haven when we first arrived. You had a little tavern. I didn’t think you recognized me, you’d only seen me the once, and six years… I grew up quite a bit in that time,” he said, a slight smile twisting his mouth as he took the cookie she held out to him. “I felt guilty for what you’d endured. Wasn’t sure how you’d escaped, but you had. I started hunting for you, bringing you goats and rabbits.”

“Then one morning I walked in and you were there, sitting on the floor while Cullen sat in a chair behind you, combing your hair. After that, the change in him was so drastic. The two of you were always together unless Cullen was running drills with the troops.”

Taashath stilled, stared down at the fresh batch of sweet rolls she’d just pulled from the oven. “I haven’t seen him in days.” Her brows knit together and she looked at the piles of sweets she’d made, seeming to just realize what she’d been doing. “Seven years,” it was a whisper. “Is he angry with me?” Blinking, she looked up to meet Oliver’s eyes. “Seven years and I don’t-”

“No,” Oliver insisted, hand reaching out to cover hers. “Angry yes, but not with you. I think he’s afraid of scaring you.”

“I kept flinching,” she told him. “Seven years and I can’t remember any of it.”

“But you do,” Oliver said, chin jerking toward all she’d done. “You remember.”

“But I don’t,” she insisted. “I don’t know how I knew how to do that. I don’t… remember it. My mind doesn’t, but my hands did.”

“That’s something. You’ll get there,” he tried to reassure her.

The front door opened and they both looked to it, saw Miri standing there, mild confusion on her face. “There you are,” she said, hands on her hips.

“We went for a walk,” Oliver said, as Miri crossed to sit on the stool beside him. It was a habit that he’d gotten into when Miri had first been healing. Brisa would wake in the middle of the night and after he’d seen to her diaper or fed her, they would walk until she’d calmed, quieted and fallen back asleep. When Miri had been well enough to move back into her hours, he’d offered to help. Slept on the hard couch, there and able to help should she or Brisa need anything.

Miri looked at the spread of sweets and raised her brows at Taashath. “Do you remember?” she asked, tentative and regretted the question at the crestfallen look on her face.

 

Cullen scowled as yet another soldier walked past him, carrying a cookie. It was too much to hope. If she remembered, surely she would have come to find him? Unless she was angry with him, hated him for allowing her to be locked up. Oliver appeared at his elbow. One of the familiar sweet rolls in his hand. “Where did you-”

“Taashath was up baking half the night.” Cullen opened his mouth, snapped it shut and stared hard at nothing. “She still doesn’t remember,” he said quietly. “She said it was as if her body knew what it was doing, though she had no idea how.” With a jerky nod, Cullen walked away. It was something, wasn’t it? A little piece of hope. He found himself standing in front of the bakery, smoke curling from the chimney, the sweet scent of baked goods hanging in the air.

“Hello, Cullen,” Talon smiled at him as she made her way closer. Basket hanging from the crook of her elbow, her child, Vaeril, perched on her hip.

“Talon,” he said, stepping back, hands clasped behind his back.

“Are you going in?”

“Ah,” he looked at the door, then shook his head. “No, no, I don’t think so.”

Talon watched him go, curious, before slipping through the door. “Here,” she said, handing over the basket that contained more of the herbs for the tea. “I just saw Cullen,” she told her, watching the way Taashath’s head jerked up.

“He was here?”

“He was.” Taashath looked beyond her, toward the door. “He left.”

“Oh,” the forlorn tone of her voice making Talon’s chest hurt for her.

“There are apples in the kitchen. They just got a big crate of them.”

“Apples?” Her brows knit together.

“Maybe you could make a pie?” Talon suggested, having heard that they were Taashath’s favorite and that there was some long running thing between her and Cullen about pie.

“Pie,” Taashath echoed, then she nodded a little. “Okay, I think I will.”


	59. Chapter 59

Cullen paced his office, contemplating his decision and whether it was a good idea or one that might well ruin everything. His idea to give Taashath some space to try and cope with everything hadn’t helped. Well, it hadn’t helped him. But she’d gone to the bakery, much to the delight of everyone in Skyhold. So maybe backing off had been for the best, no matter how much it hurt. Raking his fingers through his hair he eyed his desk, thinking of the letters that lay inside. 

Walking around to tug open the drawer he stared down at them. He hadn’t read them. Couldn’t. The others weren’t meant for him, but the one with his name had filled him with such dread. She hadn’t known he was going to get her out. She hadn’t known that he believed her. Grabbing the folded pieces of parchment, Cullen walked out of his office and headed through the gates to the village. Was she still at the bakery? It was late, the sun sinking down over the horizon. She had rarely stayed so late before.

Quickening his pace, he hoped he’d find her there, unsure if going to her room would be welcome. He closed in on the bakery, watched the door open. Long silver locks were tied back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. Maker’s breath, he missed her. Taashath turned as she came out, closing the door behind her.

“Taashath, my lady.”

She jumped, whirled around and Cullen quickly took a step back, putting space between them when he caught the flicker of fear in her eyes. “Cullen!” It was a gasp of sound and he suddenly regretted tracking her down. He should have slipped the letters under her door.

“My apologies,” he said, ducking his head. “I didn’t mean to … startle you.”

Taashath didn’t speak for a moment. “You didn’t, I mean, it’s alright. I just...” she trailed off, then shoved something at him, and he quickly grabbed on to the object wrapped in parchment. “It’s for you,” she said in a rush.

Cullen blinked down at the small bundle in his hands, frowned. “What…?” He lifted it enough to peer under the parchment and his heart kicked in his chest. “You made a pie. For me?”

“Yes?” she said, but it sounded more like a question. “There were apples and I...”

“Thank you,” Cullen said, lump in his throat. “This is,” he swallowed, “thank you. Here.” He held the letters out to her and she took them, brow furrowing. “They are letters that you wrote. I didn’t read them. I don’t know what they say, but I thought that you should have them. Maybe they will… help.” He took a step backward, being so near her and not reaching for her caused a physical ache in his chest. “Thank you,” he told her, holding the pie up slightly before turning and leaving.

He silently berated himself as he made his way back to his office and set the pie on his desk. _Idiot_ , he thought. He was an idiot. But Cullen had desperately wanted to reach out, to wipe the smudge of flour from her cheek. But if she’d flinched away again? Closing his eyes he rubbed his hands over his face.

Sinking down in his chair, Cullen tried to focus on the work in front of him, though the scent of the sweet pie sitting so close called to him. Pulling back the parchment he looked at it, felt the corner of his mouth twist up into a bittersweet smile. She couldn’t remember him, but she remembered how to bake a perfect pie.

_Maybe there is a reason for that_ , he thought bitterly.

Quiet had settled over Skyhold. It was dark and the only sounds were the quiet murmurs of the scouts standing on lookout. It should have been peaceful. Cullen was exhausted, sleep should have come easily. But it didn’t. No nightmares, because he couldn’t remember when he had slept for more than just a few minutes at a time. He found himself standing in the dark hallway outside of Taashath’s room. Fingers pressed to the heavy wooden door. Was she asleep? Had she finally moved to the bed, or did she still curl up, wedged in the corner of the room on the floor?

Curling his hand into a fist, he pulled back, withdrew, because if she was awake, or if he stepped in there and she woke up, he knew it wouldn’t help his cause to ease her fear of him. Continuing down the hall, he found the small room that held the statue of Andraste and he knelt, pressed his clasped hands to his forehead and he prayed.

“Is this my punishment?” he found himself asking softly, lifting his head to stare up at the statue. “For all the crimes I committed, all the times I looked the other way?” His eyes burned and he blinked. “It would be fitting,” he murmured. “A former Templar in love with a Mage who is… justifiably terrified of him.”

 

Taashath watched Cullen walk away. She wanted to call out to him, to go after him. Looking down at the letters in her hand she frowned then quickly hurried to her quarters. Parrot was there, asleep on the bed, but when she took up her usual spot on the floor he got up and climbed up to perch draped over the back of her neck. “You’re too heavy,” she scolded him, but simply reached up and rubbed the top of his head, not really minding that she had to hunch her shoulders forward to afford him the space to lay comfortably.

Everyone she had spoken to often referred to Cullen, a constant presence in her life. But she couldn’t remember him. No one had outright said it, but she suspected there was far more than just a casual acquaintance. Oliver’s words the night before had driven the idea home in her mind.

_Darling_. He’d called her that often when she’d first woke. Confused and afraid and she’d not understood it. Unfolding the letter with his name on it, she ducked her head and began to read.

 

_Cullen,_

_Kadan. My heart. My love. I’m sorry. This is not how I imagined it ending. I’d hoped… well, for forever. I wish I’d been able to meet your family._

_I don’t blame you, you must know that. I’m angry I didn’t realize something was wrong sooner. I wish I’d been able to help Evelyn, but all I can hope is that you’ll figure something out. I don’t want you to punish yourself, either, Kadan. I know you. Mourn me, but don’t give up on life, or on love. That is all I want for you, help save the world and then find happiness again._

_The time I have spent with you has meant more to me than you’ll ever know. You are my best friend and I just want you to know how very much I love you. I don’t know what will happen now, but I will always be with you._

_Love,_

_Taasha_

 

There were tears rolling down her cheeks by the time she finished reading the letter. It made her heart ache. How could she not remember him? But reading the words, she knew they were true. It felt right.

The letter written to Talon was a thank you, for being her friend, for helping her when she’d needed it the most, and a plea to help Cullen. The letter for Leliana was much the same. Nudging Parrot off her shoulders she got to her feet, her chest felt tight and breathing was difficult.

She tried to imagine how she would feel were their roles reversed. If Cullen couldn’t remember her if he flinched every time she reached for him. The room was too small suddenly and she desperately needed to get out. Wrenching open the door she all but ran for the gardens, drew in deep breaths of the cool night air and tilted her head back to stare up at the sky. The green glow from the rift cast a sickly glow on everything, but she could see the stars.

Taashath wasn’t sure how long she stood there before she walked over and sat down on one of the benches, head still tilted back as she tried so hard to just remember. The sound of one of the doors opening had her looking up. Cullen was walking down the corridor, head lowered, hand on the back of his neck. He went to the small room that she knew held a statue of Andraste. Taasha practically leaped to her feet and hurried after him, only to stop cold in the doorway when she heard Cullen’s voice.

“Is this my punishment? For all the crimes I committed, all the times I looked the other way? It would be fitting,” he murmured. “A former Templar in love with a Mage who is… justifiably terrified of him.”

Ducking back out of the doorway, Taashath made her way down to her room. Punishment? That’s what he thought? That the Maker had made her forget him to punish him for what he’d done?” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sunk down on the foot on the bed. She thought of the mages Cullen had saved in Kirkwall after her rumored death. The Maker wouldn’t punish them, not like this.

She was exhausted, but Taashath knew that she wouldn’t sleep. He loves me, she thought and it felt so right. Leaving her room again, this time she headed for his office, determined to wait if he hadn’t returned, but she found him there, sitting at his desk, his head bowed as he stared intently at the papers in front of him. The pie sat at his elbow, once slice on a plate, untouched. Cullen hadn’t seemed to realize she’d stepped into the room. “Is the pie that bad?” she found herself asking.

Cullen jerked upright, elbow hitting the plate, rattling the fork against it. “What? No, no it’s delicious,” he said with a deep frown. “What are you doing up? It’s late.”

“You haven’t even taken a bite of it,” she said, then caught sight of Parrot padding into the office. The cat jumped onto the desk, walked across Cullen’s papers, then jumped off and twined through her legs before walking over to a low platform on the wall. She watched curiously as he made his way up to narrow ‘stairs’ that wound back and forth up to the loft over the office.

“Your pies are always delicious,” Cullen said and she turned back to focus on him. He was looking at her as though he were trying to make it look like he was barely acknowledging her.

“Why didn’t you read the letters?”

He lifted his brows. “Did you?” She nodded. “Honestly?” he asked and she nodded again. “I was afraid to. Seeing you in that cell, so defeated, I wasn’t sure if you didn’t hate me in the end. I’d planned to get you out. To send you to my sister, Mia. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw and she wondered when the last time was that he’d shaved. The stubble was long.

“You love me,” she said the words, watched his face.

“Yes,” Cullen replied without hesitation, he looked at her, then away. “It’s late. You’re exhausted. Go on up to the loft,” he said, gesturing to the ladder. “The bed is yours anyways. You’ve nightclothes in the dresser.”

Taashath glanced at the ladder, then turned back to him, but he’d lowered his head, wouldn’t look at her. “Where will you sleep?”

“The couch,” he waved a hand to the too small couch that was pushed up against one wall. “Unless you’d rather I be farther away, if that is what you wish, I can-”

“No,” she said quickly. “No, that’s fine.”

 

Cullen sat back in his chair after she’d climbed the ladder and he listened to her as she moved. He’d only been up there to change his clothes, unable to sleep in the bed they had shared, without her. But now, he leaned back and closed his eyes, just listening. The sound of drawers opening and closing. The shush of fabric being removed and sliding back into place. The blankets being dragged down. The soft creak of wood as her weight settled onto the bed.

Obviously whatever was in that letter hadn’t condemned him and he wished he’d given them to her sooner. Covering the pie that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to eat only because they had always shared them, he blew out the candle and crossed to the couch where he settled down on it and listened closely to hear her breathing.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he lay there, trying to tell his mind to wind down, to sleep, when he heard the bed creak. Then the floorboards. Opening his eyes he watched, silhouetted against the light seeping in through the hole in the ceiling, Taashath came down the ladder and padded over to stand at the foot of the couch. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“I can’t sleep,” she said and her voice hitched. “It’s… it’s not right. The bed. It’s too big.”

For a moment Cullen lay there, just watching her. Her hands were twisting together, head bowed. “Come here,” he murmured, sitting up. A long moment passed, then she closed the distance and he nudged her onto her side, tucked her against the back of the couch before stretching back out beside her, tugging the blanket up around her.

It took a moment for her to settle in, she shifted, squirmed, then tucked her face against his throat and curled her fingers in the front of his shirt. Cullen cautiously wrapped his arm around her. “Alright?” he asked and she nodded. “Sleep, Taasha,” he breathed, feeling it pulling at him. For the first time in months finally feeling as if the piece of him that was missing had returned.

“You love me,” she murmured, her voice laced with sleep.

“Forever,” he answered, and felt her give a slight nod of her head.

“Okay.”


	60. Chapter 60

Taashath woke, warm and pressed between something solid at her back and a warm body at her front. For several heartbeats, she had no idea where she was or who held her. Then the night before came back to her. _Cullen_. The couch was far too small for them. But she hadn’t been so comfortable in as long as she could remember. Her head tucked under Cullen’s chin, cheek against the skin exposed by the open collar of his shirt. A muscled thigh pressed between her own, a solid pressure against her that had a strangely familiar heat building low in her belly.

The shirt she’d pulled on before crawling into bed the night before had ridden up, twisted around her waist and she thought she should be embarrassed. But Cullen’s hand, warm and calloused rested against the bare skin of her back. Her own hands were curled into fists in the front of his shirt as if she’d been afraid he might vanish in the night.

Careful so as not to wake him, she angled her head back to look up at him. His head rested on the arm of the couch, his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle, but he appeared to be sleeping deeply. _Nightmares_ , she thought. _He hasn’t been sleeping._ She’d had nightmares too, though they confused her more than anything. Most were about the cell in Kirkwall, being chained to a wall. But there had been others too. A Templar and a bath. Pressure on her chest and not being able to breathe.

Inching her hand up, she skimmed her fingers over his collarbone, then up a bit more, felt the scratch of long stubble on his throat. Along his jaw. He made a quiet sound, angled his face into the touch, but his eyes didn’t flutter. Sinking her teeth into her lower lip she let her fingers glide over his lips. Full and soft, the scar on his lip smooth.

“Taasha,” Cullen murmured, his hand on her back sliding down, lower until it cupped the curve of her bottom, squeezed, tugging her closer, harder against his body. The gentle heat in her belly sparked into something much hotter and she made a quiet sound. His eyes were still closed as he lowered his head, found her mouth with his and kissed her.

Hot and wet, Taashath couldn’t breathe, felt his tongue slip past her lips, his thigh pressed harder against her center. _This is right_ , she thought. When his hand slipped down, gripped her thigh, tugged her lower body tighter to his, she wrenched her mouth away from his, gasping in a breath. Against her, Cullen’s body stilled. “Taasha?” he asked, cautious.

“You love me?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

He cursed softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Cullen started to withdraw, trying to untangle their limbs without falling to the floor.

“Wait,” she tugged at his shirt. “Don’t go, please.” He stilled, though he didn’t reach out to touch her again. “You love me,” she repeated it because she couldn’t remember and she needed to hear it. Needed to know she wasn’t crazy for feeling the strange pull toward him.

“And you can’t remember,” he said, turning his head up to stare up at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have...”

Taashath was torn between wanting to release her hold when it was so obvious Cullen wanted to retreat and yanking him back against her and kissing him until he gave in. “I’m sorry,” she managed to get out, her fingers curled into a fist in the bottom of his shirt that had slid up. Her knuckles brushed against soft skin.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, turning his head to look at her. Cullen hadn’t pulled back, but he also didn’t reach out to her again.

“Because I can’t remember. Because you’re blaming yourself. For flinching away from you. For being afraid before. For wanting to wrap my arms around you and hold on to you because even though I can’t remember I know that this, here, you and me, it’s _right_.” Tears were burning her eyes and she ducked her head, tried to make herself loosen her grip on his shirt, but she couldn’t.

“Darling,” it was a whisper and then Cullen’s arms were around her again. He shifted on the couch, propped himself up on one elbow as he tucked her under him, flush against him. “I love you, Taasha, my darling.” Cupping her jaw, he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. You have nothing to feel sorry for. I don’t want to crowd you.” The corner of her lips twitched up into a bit of a smile, very much crowded by him, his thigh wedged between her own again, his body a solid weight over her. He answered with his own small smile, very much aware of what he was doing. “I don’t want to scare you,” he amended.

Taashath finally released her grip on his shirt, lifted her hand and rested it against his side, his skin soft beneath her fingers. “You don’t scare me,” she murmured. “I know-I know that you would never hurt me.” She pressed her other hand to her chest, over her heart. “I know it here. Like I know that you love me.”

Lowering his head Cullen rested his forehead against hers and his eyes slid shut as he let out a shuddering breath. “More than anything in this world,” he murmured. “I need you” he opened his eyes, met her gaze, “like I need air to breathe. I never want to let you go. But if you need me to, if you need me to take a step back at any time- promise me, Taashath, that you’ll tell me. You and I have always been honest with each other. Promise that if it’s too much, if I’m too much, you will let me know.”

She stared up at him, saw so much pain in his eyes, but there was so much love there too and she knew that she’d never let him go. “I promise,” she agreed. “What if I never remember?” she asked. “Seven years… my body, it knows things I don’t. Working in the bakery. Laying with you, how you fit against me,” she said then hitched her thigh up over his hip, smiled at his groan as his lower body pressed closer.

“Taashath,” he said with a quiet groan, shifted his hips away, but she’d felt the press of his erection through his trousers.

“What if none of the memories ever come back?”

Cullen blinked slowly, slid his hand down her throat, let his fingertips slide along her collarbone and over her shoulder. “Well, then, we’ll make new memories, and I’ll just have to get you to fall in love with me all over again.” Lowering his head, he brushed a kiss over her throat and she gasped softly, arched her neck granting him more access. “I’ll court you like I should have when I found you in Haven.”

 

Evelyn had never been overly social. Events she’d had to attend because of her family had never been her favorite, but it was her duty. It was at one of those events where she’d met Alexander. The bespectacled man with a mop of red hair on his head, she’d thought him utterly ridiculous. But he’d made her laugh. Charmed her right from the start. A fling, she’d thought the first time he stole a kiss weeks later. Just a fling. But weeks passed, then months and he hadn’t left, continued to flirt with her every chance he got, brought her little gifts, silly things, sometimes childish even.

Evelyn had been a soldier, a warrior, who wished her parents would have allowed her to join the Templars. Noble, they thought, but not the path for their only daughter. Alexander a teacher, soft-spoken and so kind. His proposal had confused her. She’d never thought to become someone’s wife. Her parents had refused the proposal. Too common. Not strong enough. He wasn’t worthy.

Even then, Evelyn had known. I’m the one who is unworthy. She’d gone to the school after the children had left for the day, found Alexander there, asked him why. “Was it a joke?” she asked, unable to fathom why this man would want her.

“Of course not,” Alexander insisted. They married shortly after, much to the dismay of her parents. She had never understood it, what he saw in her, but she’d fallen for him. He never begrudged her her strength. He’d spoiled her and loved her and given her a son.

 

“Is this my punishment?” she asked softly angling her head back to stare up at the sky. “For being such a wretched human being? For loving a man I was never worthy of?” _Alex. Isaak. Thom._ Had death claimed Taashath as well? Her stomach twisted and she felt ill at the thought. Skyhold was within view. Another thirty minutes and she’d be there. But anxiety over finding out the truth had her falling behind the caravan until they were gone from view. She sat against a large boulder, staring out over the paths they’d just traveled.

“Are you alright?” Evelyn looked up to see Alistair swinging a leg over and sliding off the horse.

“Why?” He frowned. “Why are you here? Why do you care? Why do you keep trying...” _trying to fix me?_

“Well,” he reached up, rubbed his chin. “You haven’t told me to go away.”

“Would that actually work?” she asked.

Alistair opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “You know, I’m not sure.” Then he walked over to lean against the rock beside her. “A long time ago, a friend of mine, she lost everything. Had to join the Wardens though she hadn’t wanted to. Even then… she was kind.”

Evelyn scoffed and rolled her eyes as she pushed away from the rock. “That will never be me. I was never kind.”

“No! That isn’t! Maker, that isn’t what I meant,” Alistair said, following her as she walked to where the horses stood. “She helped me more than I ever helped her. Not long after, my mentor, Duncan, was killed. I was a mess, and she… held everything together. I knew that we had to move forward, to fight, but I didn’t know how. Talon got us through everything, she never gave up.”

“Talon,” Evelyn said the name with a frown, fingers fussing with the straps of her horse's saddle. “The Hero of Ferelden?”

“Yeah,” Alistair said with a grin. “That’s her.”

“Do you know what would help?” Evelyn said, finally mounting her horse, Alistair did the same, looked at her expectantly. “Help defeat Corypheus. Do whatever you can to make them move faster to get this over with. Because the sooner he is dead, the sooner I can leave the Inquisition.” Alistair’s expression settled into a concerned frown. “Look, there is no love lost between myself and everyone else at Skyhold. Taashath… if she…” Evelyn swallowed hard. “The only reason I haven’t left is because of this,” she said, holding up her marked hand. “Because there are still rifts that need to be sealed.”

“Your friend Taashath is the one who helped you, yes?”

Tears burned her eyes. “Yeah.” Evelyn remembered how she’d looked on the cot, barely breathing, cheeks sunken in. If Taashath never recovered, Cullen would never forgive her. The man hated her already - if he lost Taashath because of her. Nausea twisted her stomach and she swallowed hard.

They made their way up the final climb, through the gates and Evelyn looked around. Even though she knew, she found herself looking toward the stables. Hoping against all hope that Thom would be there. Her eyes burned and she blinked as she slid from her horse. No other friendly faces were there to greet her. No, it seemed as if everyone was studiously avoiding her gaze.

“Alistair!” a voice called, then a woman was pushing through the crowds of people and running toward him. “Alistair!” she cried again, launching herself into his arms.

Alistair laughed, gathered her up against him and swung her around. “Talon.” Evelyn took a step back, then another. “Maker’s breath, what are you doing here?” he asked her with a big grin.

“Oh, Ali,” she breathed as he set her on her feet. Talon reached up, cupped his face. “I have missed you. There is so much to tell you!”

Evelyn swallowed hard, ducking her head as she turned away. The sheer joy of the reunion made her heart ache and admittedly, she was jealous and she hated herself for it. Hurrying up the stairs to Cullen’s office she found the door open and him adjusting his gauntlets. She froze, stared at him. Took in the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the dark circles below his eyes and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “No,” it was a quiet whisper as her vision blurred with tears. “Please, no.”

 

It was still early morning, Taashath had gone to the bakery after several more kisses. He was worried that he was pushing too much. Afraid of overwhelming her. It feels right, she’d told him, again and again. He was about to head down to the training field when he caught a shadow of movement from the corner of his eye.

Evelyn stood there, looking stunned, and then she was on her knees, her hands pressed to her face as she shook with silent sobs. He just stared at her for long moments. Remembered he never wrote to her to tell her Taashath had woken. How bad did he look that she thought the worst? Feeling awkward, Cullen crouched down beside her.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m so sorry,” she whispered through the tears.

“She is alive,” Cullen said, his hand reaching out to grip her shoulder when she didn’t react. “Lady Trevelyan,” he said, his voice harder. She jerked her head up, looked at him, brows knitting together. “Taashath is alive.” Relief washed over her. “She has no memory of the last seven years.” The relief turned to shock. “She’s down at her bakery if you’d like to see her, though I truly don’t know how she will react to seeing you.”

Cullen wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Evelyn going to see Taashath, but he couldn’t help but hope maybe it would spark a memory or two and maybe everything would come back? He had meant every word he’d said to Taashath earlier - if she didn’t remember, they would make new memories. He would woo and court her and see just how much she meant to him. Even if it took years.


	61. Chapter 61

Evelyn did her best to compose herself before she made her way, head bowed - avoiding the gaze of everyone she passed, to the bakery. It stood, rebuilt, good as new. Smoke curling from the chimney, it looked warm and inviting. A small group of people bustled out the door, calling their thanks as they left. She’d lost seven years? Straightening her spine, Evelyn stepped forward and drew open the door. It was warm and the sweet scent of baked goods hung heavy and delicious in the air.

Taashath turned, looked at her, but there was no recognition. Canting her head to the side a little she waited. “May I help you?”

Evelyn remembered the first time she’d walked into the tavern in Haven. Taashath had been kind and Evelyn had lashed out at her. Bile burned her throat. They had come so far from that and Evelyn truly didn’t know why Taashath had forgiven her. Words lodged in her throat. _Cole_ , she thought. Cole could fix this, couldn’t he?

“Do I… know you?” Taashath’s brow furrowed, scrutinizing Evelyn.

“No,” she said quietly. “No, I just...” she waved a hand and took a step back. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” Evelyn turned and walked back out of the bakery. She felt restless. What was she supposed to do with herself?

She knew that she should go speak with Josephine, find out of there was anything she needed to take care of, but Evelyn knew she was just a formality. Trudging across Skyhold, she went to the barn, breathed, and felt the tears stinging her eyes. The table still stood there, the child’s rocking toy finished, sitting atop it. Evelyn traced a finger over the smooth wood and she wanted to wrap her arms around it, hold it. She had no need of it, knew she should give it to some child who would love it. After all, that was why Thom made it.

She blinked, wiped at the dampness of her eyes before climbing the stairs. The makeshift bed he favored when she was out of town was still there. The soft furs that were draped over the bales of hay, with a threadbare blanket thrown over them. “Shit,” she whispered, sinking down on the edge. Evelyn wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so lost. Hate had fueled her for so long after Alexander and Isaak had been killed. Now, all that hate was directed at herself.

Evelyn was tired of crying. Tired of being miserable. Tired of everything. “Cole?” she said his name, waited. It had been a few days since she’d last seen him. She appreciated that he tried to help her, though she knew at this point there was no _fixing_ her. “Can you do anything for Taashath?” she asked when she saw the quick movement at her side.

Cole was quiet for long moments and Even turned her face to look at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Memories locked away, like a little chest, trying to keep them safe from the demon. The demon clawed and scraped. Dug into the box. Broke it.”

“There must be something you can do? Please, Cole.”

 

Alistair stared in stunned silence at Talon. He sat in a room with her, Zevran and their child. “You-” he swallowed. “You found a cure.”

“Yes?” Talon said, but it sounded more a question than anything. “I think so. I… Gods, I hope so.”

Alistair knew that Talon had been searching for a cure for the Blight. But he’d never allowed himself to think it was a real possibility. Not for him. “A cure,” he repeated. Rubbing his hands over his face he pushed up to his feet and began to pace. “But you haven’t used it?” He turned, looked at her. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she looked worse than he felt.

“Not yet,” Talon ducked her head, looked down at her hands in her lap.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Talon is with child,” Zevran spoke up and Alistair felt as if the entire world came to a screeching halt. Pregnancies among the Wardens were nearly impossible.

He thought of his own child on the other side of Skyhold, who he had never even seen, who knew nothing of him and never would. Had it been worth it? He couldn’t help but wonder. Both he and Talon had lived, but at what cost? Looking between Talon, Zevran and the child they had adopted, Alistair knew he had only one choice in the matter. Maybe everything had been leading up to this moment? “Of course, I’ll do it,” he said.

Talon pursed her lips. “There is a chance,” she told him. “That this will kill you outright. It could speed up the sickness.”

Alistair could see the wet sheen over her eyes and gave her a crooked smile. “What have I got to lose?”

Her jaw trembled. “I don’t like it. I don’t like asking you to do this-” He crouched down in front of her, covered her hands with his.

“Talon,” he said her name gently. “There is a chance that this could kill me. But you know as well as I do, we’re both walking dead as it is. I know you, I know how good your tonics and potions are. You wouldn’t just throw around the idea of a cure if you weren’t sure.” He squeezed her hands, cupped her jaw. “There are a few things I want to see to first, but we’ll do this.”

 

 

It was around midday when the door opened and Taashath looked up to see Cullen stepping through the doorway. Her heart gave a little flutter in her chest just at the sight of him. When he smiled at her, her heart leaped up into her throat and she felt dizzy. “Hello, darling,” he said, walking in and setting a small basket on the counter.

“Hi,” the word sounded strained.

Cullen stilled, watched her a cautious expression on his face. “Are you alright?”

Taashath gave a jerky nod. “Yes,” she cleared her throat, took a step closer, hand extended. “Just seeing you here...” she angled her head down, pressed her forehead to his. “It makes me feel things.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles, while his other hand rested on her hip, drew her body flush against his. “What kind of things?” he asked.

Sinking her teeth into her lower lip she closed her eyes. “I don’t know, I can’t find the words...” Joy didn’t begin to describe it. “My chest – you make it hard to breathe,” she opened her eyes, met his gaze. “But in a good way,” she added quickly.

Cullen lifted a hand up to cup her cheek, tilted his head back and brushed a soft kiss over her jaw. “You make me feel the same, my darling.”

Letting out a soft hum of pleasure, Taashath angled her head to allow Cullen better access while she reached up and slipped her fingers into his hair. “You love me,” she murmured.

“With every beat of my heart.”

They stayed like that for long minutes. The quiet crackle of the fire in the oven and the muted chatter of people in the village the only sounds as they stood, holding each other. “I brought lunch,” Cullen said, finally withdrawing, though he kept a hold of one of Taasha’s hands, tugged her to the counter where he’d set the basket down.

“And you’ll stay?” she asked, hopeful, helping him unpack the food.

“I always do,” Cullen told her. Food arranged, they sat on the stools at the front of the counter, Cullen’s foot resting on one of the rungs of her stool, his thigh pressed against the length of hers as she angled her body toward his. “Did Evelyn come by?” he asked, lifting a piece of sliced fruit to her lips.

Taasha parted her lips, taking the offered fruit as her brows drew together. “Evelyn? The Inquisitor?” She’d heard the name before. Remembered the woman who had come in earlier that day. “She looked miserable.”

“She has been through a lot,” Cullen said with a sigh, then took the torn off bite of bread Taashath lifted to his mouth. He chewed, watched her. Sharing a meal was something they had done so often. A stark contrast from just a few short weeks ago. He wondered what had changed so abruptly. Maybe the bakery was the key?

“Tell me?” she asked.

Cullen recounted what he knew about Evelyn. “The two of you were not friendly when Evelyn first arrived in Haven. But, you apparently called a truce.” He told Taasha of Evelyn’s husband and son. Of the possession they tracked back to Therinfall Redoubt. The death of the man they had known as Blackwall.

“That’s horrible,” Taasha said, brow furrowing. “Why didn’t anyone do something? There had to have been signs?”

“It would be easy to say it was all because she pushed everyone away, never truly made friends. But you’re right, we should have seen that something was wrong sooner. You did, you and Blackwall. But by then, it was too late.”

“I want to help her,” Taashath said, insistent and Cullen couldn’t help but smile. He reached up and slid his hand over the back of her neck, up into her hair.

“Of course you do.” They finished eating and cleaned up. “Will you join me for dinner?” Cullen asked, gathering the basket as he prepared to leave. Taashath bit her lower lip, brow knitting together as she thought. “Am I pushing too much?” he asked.

She shook her head quickly. “No, no, that isn’t,” she broke off, felt her cheeks flame with heat. “The couch in your office, it isn’t very comfortable.” Taasha watched as Cullen reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“The bed in the loft is yours, Taasha darling.” Taashath ducked her head, avoiding his gaze and Cullen set the basket back down, tucked his fingers under her chin. “Taasha, what is it?”

Reaching up, she curled her fingers around his wrist, closed her eyes for a moment then opened them and looked into his. “I don’t want to sleep alone.” Time seemed to stand still for long minutes as she waited for a reaction and Taashath was afraid she’d overstepped. She knew what she felt. Knew that even though the couch had been too small for the two of them, she hadn’t slept so well as far back as she could remember.

“And who would you like to share the bed with?” he asked and it took a beat, but she caught the mischief in his gaze.

It took effort not to grin. “Well,” she said, pretending to think it over as she pressed a hand to his chest plate. “I was thinking, maybe Miri would want to sleep with me.” The pinch on her side was careful, but it tickled and she laughed, jerking away from him. “Commander,” she tried to use her most stern voice. “That was highly inappro-” he stole the words from her lips with his own. One of his hands curved around her waist, the other up the back of her neck and into her hair. Sighing against his lips, she all but melted against him, her own hands resting on either side of his throat.


	62. Chapter 62

Evelyn was on her way back to the barn, stack of papers she’d collected from Josephine in hand when she saw Alistair walking toward her. “Everything alright?” she asked, curious as to why he’d sought her out.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “What… are you doing?”

“My fictitious Inquisitorial duties. Letters that need my signature.” She continued into the barn, up the stairs and sat down on the hay bale and set the stack of papers at her side, while propping the inkwell on the higher stack of hay on her other side.

Alistair followed, a deep crease between his brows as he watched her. “Don’t you have an office? Or someplace else,” he waved a hand at the space that smelled for old hay and horses, “to do that? Or did they take that away?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “I mean, I have my quarters, my office in the main building, but...” she ducked her head, stared at the words on the page in front of her, but couldn’t seem to see any of them. “This is where Thom preferred to stay when I was away from Skyhold.” Alistair didn’t say anything, and she could practically feel his gaze on her. “It’s stupid, I know that. I’m sure that everyone is judging me for being here. I killed him downstairs. Poisoned him. Taashath found him. She lost her memory in helping me. It’s probably for the best, I mean, that part. Forgetting finding him. They were friends.”

Alistair turned and walked to the large opening that overlooked all of Skyhold and she glanced at him. He leaned up against the frame, arms over his chest. “It smells like my childhood. I spent plenty of time in the barn before I went away to join the Templars.” His palm rasped over his jaw. “Strangely comforting,” he said with a quiet chuckle before glancing over at Evelyn. “It isn’t stupid, this is where he stayed, it’s a connection with him.”

Unexpectedly, a tear rolled own Evelyn’s cheek and she quickly dashed it away. “Yes,” she agreed. “Why are you here? Between the Hero of Ferelden being here, Leliana, and Morrigan even, I imagined you’d be catching up with all of them.”

He let out a quiet snort of laughter. “Morrigan, definitely not. She’d probably turn me into a toad on the spot. I did see Talon, I was going to introduce you to her, but you disappeared on me.” She shrugged, lowered her head back to look at the papers in her lap. “I spoke with Leliana as well. I told you about the Calling,” he said, looking back out over the people going about their business. “That I still hear it. I am running out of time.”

Papers all but forgotten, Evelyn looked at Alistair again. “You’re leaving?” she asked. She had known he would. But he’d said when he left he was going to Weisshaupt. The idea of him leaving to go walk into the dark roads and die didn’t sit right with her.

“Not yet,” he said, rubbed a hand over his jaw again. “Talon… may have found a cure for the Blight.”

Straightening she put aside the small wooden board she was using as a lap table and turned her full attention on Alistair. “A cure?”

“She had been searching since we defeated the last Archdemon.”

“What does that mean though? She may have found a cure?”

“Someone has to try it before we know for sure. It could work. It might not change anything. Or, or it could kill whoever drinks it.”

The words hung in the air and Evelyn could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Long minutes stretched on for an eternity. “You’re going to do it,” she said because though she didn’t know Alistair well, she did know enough about the man to know he would sacrifice himself to help others.

Alistair turned his head, gave her a crooked little smile. “Yes.”

“When?”

“There are still a few things I wanted to do, but before the end of the day.”

Evelyn wanted to be able to make Thom proud of her. Thom and Alexander, but mostly, Isaak. They had seen so much more in her than she’d ever seen in her self. “Is there anything that I can do to help?”

“Hold my hand?”

She bristled, was tempted to throw the pot of ink at his head. “I may not be good at it, but there is no need to make fun of me for trying to be nice.” Gritting her teeth she grabbed the clipboard again, slapped it down on her thighs and began scribbling her signature quickly, without bothering to read what the letters said.

Alistair sat down beside her. “I wasn’t making fun, I’m serious.” The quill froze midair and she turned her head slowly to look at him. “I don’t know what is going to happen and to be quite honest, I’m terrified.”

“You have friends here, I’m sure they-” she swallowed, focused back on her papers.

“Talon has enough on her shoulders. Morrigan, well if it were only my life at stake, not Talon’s, she’d probably sabotage the whole thing.” He rubbed his hands over his thighs then pushed up to his feet. “If this whole thing goes wrong and I… I wouldn’t want you to feel forced to watch. Forget I said anything.”

 

After Cullen left, Taashath went back to work, a smile playing over her lips. Cullen had kissed her until the heat built low in her belly. She’d barely refrained from tugging him back through the door, pinning him to wall and kissing him absolutely senseless. Turning to grab the next pan she wanted in the oven, she saw a young man standing on the other side of the counter. “Cole,” she smiled, pushed the pan into the oven and then turned back to him and stilled. “You’re Cole.”

“I want to help,” he said.

“Please.” It was strange to feel things without knowing why. Cullen loved her, she knew. But she couldn’t say the words back because she didn’t know how to. What she felt for him was so strong it made her chest ache. Before reading the letter she’d written to him all those months ago, she hadn’t understood and it had been terrifying.

The man she had only remembered as a Templar, by rights, who should want her dead because of what she was, and all she had wanted to do was reach out to him.

“I don’t know if I can,” Cole admitted. “Piece back together what the demon destroyed.”

“I’ll take anything,” Taashath said. Something was better than nothing, wasn’t it? Cullen had promised to love her and court her, regardless of her memories. But what if… she shook her head, banishing the thought. _He loves me. We agreed on forever. I will not give him up_. “Please,” she said, extending a hand out to Cole.

 

Evelyn finished her paperwork, only ending up reading about half of the letters before signing them. They were all minor things. Inconsequential. Setting them aside, she thought of Alistair, as if she hadn’t had him in the back of her mind since he’d walked out of the barn. A cure? He could die? Rubbing her hands over her thighs she tried to drag in a breath, but her throat felt tight.

Alistair had helped her, whether she had wanted it or not. It had been nice to have someone look at her without recoiling. Hold my hand? If he died – bile burned her throat and she thought she might be sick at the thought. She’d watched Thom die, locked away inside her mind screaming. If Alistair took the cure, and it killed him, could she stand idly by and just watch?

He was a friend to you, why can’t you be a friend to him now? Dragging in a breath, Evelyn got up, gathered the letters to return them to Josephine and hoped she wasn’t too late. After finding out where he was staying she hurried down the hallway. The door was halfway open, she heard voices inside. Lifting a hand to knock as she nudged the door open just a bit.

Leliana was the first one to the door and Evelyn shrank back for a moment before straightening her spine.

“Lady Trevelyan, is there something you need?” She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Then, Alistair was there. “You came,” he said and there was a note of relief in his voice. “I asked her to be here, Leliana.” Reaching past the other woman, he grasped Evelyn’s hand and tugged her into the room. “Talon, Zevran, this is the Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan.”

Zevran inclined his head, and Talon turned away from the bottles and vials she had set up on the desk and looked at her. Evelyn had never felt so scrutinized in her life. The Hero of Ferelden. The woman who had stopped the Blight and saved Thedas from destruction. Curling her left hand into a fist she shifted it behind her back. “It is,” Evelyn swallowed. _Awe-struck_ , she realized. She was absolutely awe-struck by this woman. “A pleasure to finally meet you.” Talon canted her head to the side and Evelyn realized that it was a mistake coming there. “Though, I imagine you don’t feel the same.”

Taking a step back, she tried to tug her hand free from Alistair’s. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you here?” Leliana asked from behind her and Evelyn whirled around, jaw clenched in anger.

“I asked-” Alistair started to say, but Evelyn cut him off.

“Because Alistair is the only person who hasn’t shunned me since it came out that I was weak enough to end up being possessed by a demon,” she snarled. _Spymaster_. _What a joke_ , Evelyn thought. Leliana was supposed to see everything. Know everything. But where had she been when Evelyn was killing Thom?

“You’re not weak,” Talon said and Evelyn glanced back at the dark haired woman. “You came out of a possession, relatively unscathed.”

Evelyn shook her head. “It wasn’t me, it was Taashath. She is the one who got me out, and she paid the price for it.”

Talon’s eyes flicked over her, from head to toe and she was shaking her head again. “You survived for months and you didn’t break. You endured… _Gods_ what you endured. The strength of will that takes is staggering. Memories or no, Taasha will be fine. She has love and support. Things you’ve been denied since you arrived at Haven.” Her gaze shifted behind her. “Leliana, we’ll talk later. Please close the door on your way out.”

There was a beat of silence, then the door snicked shut and Evelyn held her breath. “Do you really think Taasha will be okay?” she asked the Elvhen woman quietly.

“I do,” Talon smiled and it was warm, full of affection.

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Evelyn glanced at Alistair, who still stood beside her, his hold on her hand warm and strangely comforting. “To be fair, I didn’t exactly welcome any friendship when I arrived in Haven. I don’t blame any of them for hating me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” The retort had Evelyn blinking in surprise. “One they have all used as an excuse for not recognizing that something was wrong sooner. Leliana included. She knows she should have seen it. So they are all punishing you, after the fact, for their failures.” Talon turned back to the table, picked up a vial and then turned back to them. “Alistair?”

Evelyn watched as he reached out, curled his fingers around the small glass tube, though Talon didn’t release it. They just stood there, staring at each other. “Wait,” Evelyn choked out. “What… what is going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” Talon admitted. “Possibly nothing, or,” she swallowed, her knuckles white as she tightened her grip on the glass. “Or it could kill him.”

“Or it could change everything and be the cure we’ve wanted for the last decade,” Alistair chimed in. “But we won’t know until you let go.”

Evelyn realized Talon was trembling and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m scared,” Talon whispered.

Alistair released Evelyn’s hand, stepped forward and tugged Talon into an embrace. “It’ll be okay,” he said and his voice was so full of confidence that Evelyn nearly believed it. “No matter what happens.” When he stepped back, Talon had released her hold on the vial and Alistair stared down at it, then looked at Evelyn. Sinking down on the edge of the bed, he held a hand out to her, and she didn’t hesitate. Evelyn sat down beside him, her hands curling around his own.

“It’ll be okay,” she echoed his own words and he offered a small smile.

Zevran had moved up behind Talon to wrap his arms around her, while tears continued to roll down her cheeks.

“Bottoms up?” Alistair said, lifting the vial. Then he pressed it to his lips. Evelyn squeezed his hands, held her breath and watched as he tilted his head back and drank the contents. After a moment, his face contorted and fear gripped Evelyn’s heart. “That is vile!” he spat out the words. “Bleh. Maker’s breath, Talon, couldn’t you have made it not taste like rotten feet?"

The tension broke and Talon let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, I am so sorry _your highness_ , I’ll remember that for next time.”

Seconds dragged on into minutes and the minutes felt like hours. Evelyn watched Alistair intently. A sweat had broken out across his forehead. “I’m fine,” he said quietly.

Talon stepped away from Zevran and crouched down in front of the bed. “Ali?”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, but his gaze was unfocused, and his shirt was all but soaked with perspiration. “I’m fine, it’s okay, I’m-” his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward.

“No!” Talon cried out and the three of them caught Alistair before he tumbled forward. They laid him out on the bed and Talon began to fret. “No, no, no.” Evelyn pressed her fingers to his throat, tried to ignore how clammy his skin felt. His breathing was ragged, but his pulse felt strong beneath her fingers.


	63. Chapter 63

Cullen walked into the tavern after a long day of training with the troops and climbed the stairs where he hoped to find Taashath. Heart lifting, he smiled when he saw her already sitting at a table. He crossed the room, brushed his fingers down the back of her head, through her hair and leaned down to kiss her. When she angled her head back to look up at him, he stilled. “Darling? What’s wrong?”

Taashath reached up, grazed the tips of her fingers over his jaw. “Cole came by the bakery,” she murmured.

“You look exhausted,” Cullen said quietly. “Why don’t you head to my office, I’ll get us something to eat and then you can tell me what happened if you like.” His heart was pounding in his chest and his throat felt tight. Had Cole been able to help at all? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and judging from the expression on Taasha’s face, there was no reason to.

“Okay,” Taashath said and she pushed up to her feet. “You love me.”

“Forever,” Cullen breathed, cupping her jaw and angling her head down to press a tender kiss to her lips.

“Forever,” Taasha echoed. “You promised me forever.” She reached up and brushed her fingers through the hair at his temple.

Cullen stared into her eyes, searching and hoping against hope. “You promised me the same. A future. A home together. A family.” She blinked and Cullen saw her eyes fill with tears. “Taasha,” he whispered, tugging her close, completely disregarding the lack of privacy. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Taashath lowered her head, pressed her forehead against Cullen’s. “It didn’t work. Cole. Nothing came back. I still don’t remember. All it did was give me a headache for trying.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Cullen squeezed tightly, pressing his lips against her temple when she tucked her face against his shoulder. “Darling, my darling.” She sounded so dejected, so upset. “I told you,” he murmured. “If you don’t remember, we’ll make new memories.”

“But I want to remember. It’s always the bad, the bad things linger, but the good things – I can’t touch them.”

They stood there for several long moments before Cullen pulled back. “Go on, I’ll meet you in my office,” he told her. She walked down the stairs and he watched her go before getting some dinner for them and then heading to his office. They ate in relative quiet and Cullen hated that he didn’t know how to help. Didn’t know how to fix it for her. “Why don’t you go up to the loft and get ready for bed.”

Taashath scrunched her nose up in distaste. “I’m not tired,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m starting to feel like a child with the way you keep telling me what to do.”

Cullen went still in the process of tidying up the dishes from dinner. “I don’t think of you as a child, darling,” he said. “I just...” he trailed off, let out a breath and turned around to face her. “I just want to take care of you. I was hoping to make you feel better. I apologize.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, then turned back to his task and Taashath felt a wash of guilt flood through her. It was unfair of her, she thought. He loves me. This isn’t easy for him either. She climbed up the stairs and began to change out of her clothes and into the simple nightdress. One of the doors opened, closed and she held her breath. He’d left. Parrot leaped into her lap and she pet him absently as she sat on the foot of the bed and waited. The door opened and closed again and she heard papers rustling downstairs and she realized he wasn’t coming up.

Had they moved everything too fast? She wondered. Months of her shying away from his touch, he may have said that he loved her, wanted her there, but was it too much? Without her memories, she wasn’t the woman he’d fallen in love with. What if it changed everything? Tears burned her eyes and she stood up, much to the cat's annoyance and began pacing the small loft.

She pictured the chest in her mind again. The one that was still broken, pieces chipped away. Taashath kicked it, shoved at it. Why couldn’t she remember? Angrily, she stopped in front of the dresser, slammed her hands against the solid wooden top and caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked an absolute fright. Her hair was a tangled mess. Spotting the hairbrush she curled her fist around it and began yanking it through her hair.

What if Cullen couldn’t love her anymore? Defeated she dropped her hands to her side, fingers still clutching the brush and she bowed her head.

Broad fingers were gentle in her hair, picking apart the worst of the knots. His voice calm, soothing, words she didn’t understand mixed with the sound of the crackling just inches away. Steady strokes of the brush through her hair, she relished in the sensation. Fingertips on the bare skin of her shoulder, on her neck. He drew her hair back, twisting the damp strands into two braids that fell over her shoulders.

She blinked, opened her eyes and stared at her reflection again. That was the moment that had changed everything for her. The man who had terrified her, who by rights, should have killed her, gently brushing her hair and braiding it back for her.

Silently, Taashath made her way down the ladder. Cullen had dimmed the lantern, and he sat on the couch, his head tilted back, eyes closed, a stack of papers in his hand where it rested against his thigh. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip and she wondered if he was asleep. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, the sound of the fabric of her nightshirt rubbing against itself was loud in the quiet room.

Cullen’s head snapped up, he blinked at her. “What’s-”

Not waiting for him to finish, Taashath held the brush out to him. “Please?” His brows drew together, then he took the brush and stared at it for a moment. She quickly sat down on the floor between his spread knees and waited. “Forever?” she asked tears making her throat hurt.

She heard him shift, then, felt one hand slid over her shoulder, curl around her throat and cup her chin. Cullen angled her head back and he met her gaze. “Forever,” he echoed and pressed a sweetly tender kiss against her lips before releasing her to begin the task of brushing her hair.

 

Alistair was fairly certain he was dead. But if he was dead, shouldn’t everything hurt less? His body felt strangely numb and sore. His head throbbed in time with every beat of his heart. The room he was in stank of sweat and sickness, with an underlying scent of sweet flowers. Blinking, for a panicked moment, he thought he’d gone blind. Seeing nothing before him. But as he tried to breathe through the pain in his lungs, his eyes adjusted.

Where was he? A room in the castle at Skyhold. He remembered Adamant. He remembered the Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan. A tear through the world into the Fade. Falling. Finding the woman who snarled at anyone who spoke to her sitting on a rock, face buried in her hands, weeping. A spirit knelt before her. He’d opened his mouth, his hand going to his sword.

They were in the Fade. A trick. A demon. But sad eyes met his, and the spirit that looked so human reached up, slid its hands over the back of her head, before leaning down to kiss her crown. “Thom,” it was a broken sound, and then the spirit vanished and Alistair ducked around the side of a large rock, allowing the woman a moment of private grief.

That woman, he realized, as he turned his head, now sat awkwardly in a chair, legs draped over the arm of it, her head pillowed on her arm, while the other stretched out to him, her fingers laced with his.

The door opened, whoever was on the other side was making an effort to be silent. Talon’s eyes first skimmed over Evelyn, a deep frown on her face, before she met Alistair’s gaze. Her eyes widened, she stepped forward, her lips parting.

Alistair quickly raised his free hand to press his fingers to his lips, silently shushing Talon before she made a noise. Then his dearest friend rushed to the bed on quiet feet, and cupped his face, her eyes searching his. “Did it work?” she mouthed the words.

It took him a moment. The cure for the taint. Alistair focused. The song, if he still heard the song – reaching up with his free hand, he cupped the back of Talon’s head, unexpected tears filling his eyes. Her expression shifted from hopeful to disappointment and back again in the space of a few heartbeats. Tugging her down to him, until his lips were against her ear, he felt her damp tears trickle over his neck. “It worked.”

The sob that Talon let out was loud, and he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders as she clung to him. Evelyn’s hand in his tightened for a moment, and then he heard the scrape of the chair over the wood as if she’d stood up quickly and it had been shoved away. “No,” she said, her voice breaking.

Twisting his head so that he could look at her, he held his hand out again. After a long moment, Evelyn took it. “It worked,” he repeated and saw her mouth open, but no sound came out. Evelyn’s eyes slipped shut and she sunk down to her knees beside the bed and pressed her forehead against his hand.


	64. Chapter 64

_If Taashath hadn’t been prepared, if she hadn’t known better, she quite possibly could have mistaken the creature in front of her for Evelyn. But Taasha knew, like she knew the surroundings weren’t real. Though it seemed as if they stood in the empty hall of Skyhold, Taasha remembered the prison cell. “I won’t let you keep her,” she said, launching a small fireball at the demon. It hissed but deflected the blow, and a moment later, Taashath heard Evelyn let out a scream of pain. Frail and broken, the real Evelyn lay on the floor._

“ _You can’t stop me. I’ll take you too,” the thing hissed in a reedy voice._

_Taashath stared at the demon, looked beyond it to Evelyn, who was desperately trying to push herself up onto her hands and knees. “Come and get me then,” she said, taking a step back. The demon started to follow, then halted, glanced back at Evelyn. “What? You don’t think you can take us both? You can’t keep what’s left of her controlled while you try to take me?”_

_The demon snarled and lunged forward and Taashath yanked back, felt a strange snap of falling back into her own mind. It was disorienting. She felt the demon’s claws rake over her arm. “You cannot outsmart me,” it grinned down at her and Taashath screamed when its claws sank into her mind. Into her memories._

_Kicking up, she shoved the demon off her, felt like her mind was bleeding. It would take everything. Destroy it all. Throwing up a wall of fire around her, she worked quickly and sent up a silent prayer that it would work. A small chest, with a little padlock. Taashath shoved all her most cherished memories into it. Everything important and dear to her. Cullen. Into the tiny box that had no end._

_She could hear the demon on the other side of the fire, felt it lashing out, destroying the ‘room’ they were in, throwing things and trying to break through the barrier of fire. Clutching the little box to her chest, she stared down at the floor, conjured another one. Bigger. Simple. A lock._

_The wall of fire vanished and the demon screeched and launched itself at her. Taashath spun, shoved to her feet and ran the other way, away from the chest. The demon stood frozen for a moment, looking between her and the wooden chest. Then it sneered. “You can’t keep your mind safe.” It swung out a hand, talon-like claws chipping away at the box._

_One precious second, the demon was distracted. “Keep it safe,” Taashath said, throwing the small box to Evelyn, who had managed to get up onto her knees._

_Then Taashath turned back to the demon, watched as it destroyed the empty chest. It let out a howl of rage, turned, and Taashath stood her ground, waiting, waiting. The demon rushed at her._

_Fire spread from her fingers, up her arms, an inferno in an instant. The demon had no time to react, couldn’t stop in time. The flames licked over Taashath from her toes to the top of her head. The demon that wore a macabre version of Evelyn’s face crashed into her, but Taashath was rooted where she stood. She reached up, wrapped her arms around the demon and held on as she let the fire build higher and higher. Let it burn while the demon twisted and screamed, unable to break free._

_So tired, but she couldn’t stop. Couldn't let go until it was dead. “No,” it was gasped breath as she felt Evelyn’s mind break free from hers. The connection snapping back at her. The demon was ash and her mind -_

_Blinking, it took several moments for her eyes to focus. A blonde man looked down at her, speaking words she heard, but couldn’t quite make out. Templar. Templar who wanted her dead. She shrank back, raised her hands to ward off the blow she knew was coming. Froze. No shackles bound her wrists. “Darling, darling, Taasha darling.”_

 

Taashath jerked awake, gasping in a desperate breath of air. A hand reached out, slid along her bare thigh, over her stomach, and around her waist. “Darling? What is it?” Cullen’s voice, rough with sleep as he pushed up onto his elbow. “Bad dream?”

She turned her face, looked at him. The words were locked up in her throat. Her memories. She knew where they were. “Where is Evie?”

He frowned, rubbed his free hand over his face. “Sleeping in the barn, I think. Why? What’s going on, my darling?”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. What if she was wrong? What if she couldn’t get her memories back? Taashath didn’t want to say anything yet, just in case it didn’t work. She didn’t want to get Cullen’s hopes up. Drawing her brows together, she shook her head, the braids sliding over her shoulders. “It was just a dream,” she told him, then lowered her head and pressed her forehead against his. “Sorry I woke you.”

Cullen reached up and cupped her face, stroked his thumb along the scars on her cheek. “You can wake me any time, love.” He stretched back out, and drew her down beside him, tucking her against his body. “Promise you’re alright?”

“I promise,” she murmured, tucking her face against his throat. His arms wrapped around her and she slid her own around his waist. “You love me,” she whispered.

“Forever,” he answered, kissing the top of her head.

 

“How do you feel?” Evelyn asked, looking at Alistair. He looked a little pale and had been unsteady enough that Talon ordered him to stay in bed until she’d said otherwise. The fact that he had obeyed surprised Evelyn.

“Better,” he said. “You know how when you’ve had a really bad flu and you’re just starting to get over it? That’s what it feels like.” He was sitting sideways on the small bed, his back against the wall, legs dangling off the side. “Talon said it was less than a day, but it felt a lot longer than that.”

“But you’re really alright? The taint is really gone?”

He smiled a little crookedly and she wondered how many times Talon had asked him that. “It’s gone,” he said. “Talon is copying down the recipe, multiple times, she doesn’t want to risk anything happening to it. When she deems me fit, I’ll leave for Weisshaupt.”

It took an effort not to allow her shoulders to slump. She’d known Alistair would leave. But since he was really the only friend she had, she was disappointed it would be so soon. “Of course, it’s important.” She looked down at her hands, thought about Taashath. Could she repair what little friendship they’d had? “Is Talon staying here then?”

“Yes, for now,” Alistair said. “I’ll come back,” he said and she looked up, startled.

“Why would you do that?”

“I promised to help take on Corypheus, didn’t I?”

Evelyn shook her head, lifting her hand and giving it a little wave as if to brush away the offer. “You don’t need to. I’m sure Cassandra has it all in hand,” she tried not to allow the bitterness to creep into her voice, but when Alistair’s eyes narrowed at her, she knew she hadn’t been successful. “It’s alright, really.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Pushing out of the chair, Evelyn stood. “I was a terrible Inquisitor, even without being possessed by a demon.”

“You could have been great if they’d given you the tools you needed.”

She laughed quietly and shook her head. “I’m a soldier, Alistair. Before all this, I just followed orders. I wasn’t cut out to be a leader.” She stood there for a long moment, just watching him. “What will you do now that the taint is cured?”

Alistair rubbed his hand over his jaw, contemplated it for a few moments. “I’m still a Grey Warden. The only thing I was ever good at doing was following orders,” he gave her a conspiratorial grin, then shrugged. “I don’t know. What about you? Once you’ve defeated Corypheus and officially forsaken the Inquisition?”

Evelyn leaned her hip against the edge of the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. I don’t imagine my parents will welcome me back with open arms. Maybe… maybe I’ll go to Markham.”

“What is in Markham?”

“It’s...” her throat burned and she blinked quickly. “It’s where Thom grew up. Or maybe it’s a terrible idea and I’ll just go and see if Queen Anora would allow me to join her soldiers.”

The door opened and Evelyn straightened as Talon came in. “Oh, you are in here, good. Taashath was looking for you,” she said, carrying a tray over to set on the bed beside Alistair.

“She was?”

“Hmm, yes, she said she’d tried the barn, your quarters, and no one else seemed to have any idea where you might be.”

“Where is she now?”

“Heading back down to the bakery,” Talon said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Eat, all of it,” she ordered Alistair, who grinned. “I told her I’d send you down there if I saw you.”

“Oh, alright. Do you know what she wanted?” Evelyn asked as she crossed to the still open door.

“She didn’t mention it to me,” Talon told her. “Invite her and Cullen to dinner though for me would you? I already spoke with Cabot about taking over the upstairs of the tavern.”

Evelyn opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

“What about me?” Alistair asked.

“You’re granted leave from bed for the evening, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” she held up her hand, pointing her index finger at him. “So don’t even think of lying to me about how you’re feeling.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alistair said, then winked at Evelyn. “You’ll be there too, right Evelyn?”

She shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“You’ll absolutely be joining us.” Talon stood up, rested her hands on her hips. “The others may have allowed you to hide away from everything and everyone, but I won’t. I understand grief, Evelyn. But what you’re doing, it isn’t healthy.”

“What do you care?” The question came out sharper than she’d intended to. But it was that or bursting into tears.

Crossing the room, Talon came to a stop in front of her, cupped the other woman’s cheeks in her warm hands. “Because you’ve done nothing to warrant me not caring.”

Evelyn’s eyes filled suddenly and she blinked quickly, ducking her head and breaking away from Talon’s touch. “Thank you,” she said around the lump in her throat. “Thank you, I’ll… see you this evening then.”


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I finally have the rest of this story and the actual ending all figured out? Yes! Did I also make myself cry while plotting out the ending? Also, yes! Did I cry while writing this chapter? Oh yeah.

Taashath stood at the counter, kneading the dough for the loaf of bread. It was an experiment of sorts, she’d infused the milk with some of the tea that Talon liked. The door opened and she looked up. “Evelyn!” she exclaimed.

“Talon said you were looking for me?” she said, though she still hovered by the door.

“Yes, come in, come here, I-” breaking off she looked down at her hands, sticky with the dough. “Hold on, come sit, eat a cookie. There is tea-” she nodded to the pot that sat on the counter. “Should still be hot.”

After a moment, Evelyn finally obeyed, walking in and sitting at the counter. She felt awkward as she sat there, watching Taashath effortlessly work the sticky mess into a neat ball of dough. “What did you need?” she asked. “Why would you want to see me? I’m the reason you lost the last seven years of your life.”

Taashath made a quiet sound, dropped the ball of dough into a bowl and draped a towel over it. She carried it across the kitchen to set atop the stove to proof before she made quick work of washing her hands. “It wasn’t you that made me lose my memories, it was that demon.” Crossing back to the counter, she grabbed two mugs, filled them both with tea, then picked up a cookie and shoved it into Evelyn’s hand. “Eat it,” she ordered.

“It was still my fault.”

“I think I know how to get my memories back,” Taashath said, watching her. Evelyn looked up from the cookie, blinked.

“You do? How? Why haven’t you done it?”

“I needed you.”

Evelyn went completely still. “Needed me?”

Taashath smiled a little, took a sip of her tea. “I had a dream last night… and maybe it was just that. Maybe it was only a dream and none of it really happened, but, I figured it was worth a try. Do you remember when I joined our minds?”

Evelyn swallowed hard, then reached out and picked up the mug and drank deeply from it. The tea burned her throat, made her eyes water. “You couldn’t fight it in my mind. It deflected everything you threw at it to me. So you lured it into your own mind.”

Taashath’s eyes lit up. “It’s real,” she whispered.

“The second the demon was out of my mind though, I don’t know what happened.”

“I need to connect our minds again,” Taasha told her, then laid her hand on the counter, palm up. “You’ll have to trust me. I can’t force my way in like I did before.”

“I don’t understand,” Evelyn eyed her hand.

“The demon planned to rip my mind apart. It couldn’t keep a hold of us both. But it knew that if it could destroy my mind, I wouldn’t be a problem. I tricked it. Pretended to tuck my memories away in a treasure chest. It went after that, while I took my real memories, safe inside a little box and stored them in your head. I had planned on taking them back as soon as the demon was defeated, but the connection broke and I think… I think they are still in your head.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” Evelyn said. Still, Taashath’s hand lay open, waiting. “What if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’m wrong,” she shrugged her shoulder. “I didn’t tell anyone my suspicions. It would destroy Cullen to have the hope dangled in front of him only for it to be nothing. So if it doesn’t work, it’s only you and I that will know.”

“What if something goes wrong? The last time you connected to my mind you were unconscious for days. How am I supposed to explain that?”

“I don’t plan on fighting any more demons. It exhausted me. This… this should be minimal. Especially if you let me in.”

Evelyn lifted her hand, curled it into a fist. “If anything happens to you, Cullen will kill me.”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

Evelyn snorted quietly. “I like how you didn’t deny that my life would be forfeit should anything happen to you.” She inhaled deeply, then slowly opened her hand and slipped it into Taashath’s. Taashath’s fingers curled around her hand, warm, and soft. There was a gentle nudging at her mind, and Evelyn tried her best to relax, to allow Taashath to do whatever it was that she needed.

Taashath stared at the bridge that seemed to be building itself from her mind, into Evelyn’s. A quiet gasp escaped her lips because she could see the little box. Evelyn’s fingers tightened on hers. It’s okay, she thought. Everything is okay. When the bridge was complete, she stepped onto it, making her way slowly across. Crouching down she picked it up carefully, then clutched it against her chest.

She wanted to hurry, to run across the bridge, yank the lid open and have everything return to her. But she kept her movements slow and measured, doing her best not to disturb anything. Just as Taashath was about the stand up, a little boy ran past, laughing. He didn’t seem to notice her. “Papa!” the boy yelled, launching himself into the man’s arms. Taashath recognized them easily from the tiny paintings in Evelyn’s locket, and tears filled her eyes. Evelyn walked up to the two, the little boy leaned into her, and the man lowered his head to kiss her tenderly.

Looking away from the private memory she stood up, began her trek back to the bridge. But she couldn’t help letting her eyes wander. Blackwall, no, Thom Rainier. Taashath didn’t look away quick enough, the image burned into her mind, of Evelyn and Thom, skin to skin, bodies entwined. Holding onto each other with single-minded desperation. “I love you, Thom,” the words were a whisper and Taashath couldn’t help looking back over her shoulder. Thom was propped up on an elbow, leaning over Evelyn, looking down at her with what could only be described as utter devotion.

Taashath felt her heart twist painfully in her chest as she stepped off the bridge and into her own mind. The bridge fell away, and Taashath stared down at the box. “Please,” she whispered. “Please work.” Tugging at the lock, she tossed it away, and then slowly lifted the lid.

 

Cullen rubbed his fingers over his jaw, he had finally shaved that morning, with Taashath laying in the bed, watching him as he did so. She had doubts, about them, about him, and it tore at his heart. He desperately wanted her memories to return, but he hadn’t lied when he told her they would make new ones. She was the love of his life and that would never change. Memories or no.

He needed to show her that. To prove it to her. He’d court her until she had no choice but to believe in him, to believe in them. He just needed a little bit of help to get things organized. Cullen tracked down Talon, found her sitting in the gardens watching Vaeril toddling along behind Morrigan’s son Keiran.

“Hello, Cullen,” she said, patting the empty spot on the bench beside her. “Come sit with me.”

He walked over, sat down and rested his elbows on his knees. “How are you?”

“I … am wonderful,” she said, beaming. “How are you? How are things going with Taasha?”

“That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about, I have an idea, but I need your help.”

She reached out, rubbed her hand over his shoulder. “Of course, what do you need?”

“I never got the chance to dance with Taashath at the Winter Palace. Did you see her dress? The one that is hanging in her room,” he gestured to the hallway that lead to her room.

“I saw.” Talon’s brows drew together. “Do you want to recreate that night?” there was a dubious tone to her voice and he chuckled.

“No, absolutely not. I want it to be better.” Leaning back, he looked at her. She looked better than she had when first arriving at Skyhold, but still, tired. “I have a picnic of sorts planned. There is a nice little clearing not far from Skyhold. I was hoping that you might be able to get her to dress up, nothing so ostentatious as what she wore to the Winter Palace, but I know she likes pretty dresses. Then bring her out to the clearing.”

Talon canted her head to the side and a small smile tugged up her lips. “I think I can manage that. I had planned dinner for all of us, Evelyn included, but I think you and Taashath doing this is more important. You can join us for dinner another night.”

“You like her,” Cullen said and knew he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Evelyn? Yes, I do. That woman has been through so much, and most of it she has handled alone.”

“We failed her,” he said, looking abashed. “I know that. I also know that there is nothing I can do to change that.”

Talon lightly patted his cheek. “You did,” she agreed, “fail her. But that doesn’t mean you need to continue shunning her.”

Cullen ducked his head, feeling guilty. “I’ll try to do better,” he offered. “I know Taashath is adamant about helping her in any way that she can. I’ll do the same.”

“Good,” Talon smiled and let her hand drop away. “Do you need me to do anything else?”

“No, just don’t tell her, I want it to be a surprise.”

 

Evelyn stared at Taashath expectantly. She’d felt a strange sensation in her head as she’d watched Taasha’s face and she hoped it was working. The woman’s eyes were closed, her breathing slow and steady. She gasped suddenly, her eyes flying open. Time seemed to stop for a moment, and then Taashath had rushed around the counter and practically lifted Evelyn off the stool. “Maker, oh Evelyn,” her words sounded strangled. Evelyn felt Taasha’s hot tears on her skin and her own eyes burned.

“Did it work?” she croaked. “Taasha, please, did it work?” She’d wrapped her arms around Taashath, held onto her tightly. Taashath’s head jerked in a nod.

“I am so sorry about Thom, I am so sorry,” Taasha whispered and Evelyn felt herself shatter. A sob broke free and she clung to Taashath. They stayed like that for long moments, holding onto each other, until the sound of the door opening had them breaking apart. Evelyn quickly wiped at her cheeks and watched as Taashath practically flew across the room and tugged Talon into a hug.

“What is-”

“I remember!”

Talon gasped softly, and her arms wrapped around Taashath and hugged her tightly.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter is a bit of a mess, I apologize? There were a bunch of things I wanted to cover in it and... I really hope everything came across in an understandable manner.
> 
> Also! Since I failed, completely, to make it clear several chapters ago, and this is entirely my fault because I skimmed over it with only a short paragraph - Adamant already happened. Evelyn refused to leave either Alistair or Hawke behind(Thus the confusion I'm sure, since I haven't mentioned Hawke, or Adamant at all - But the scenes with Evelyn and Alistair returning to Skyhold was post-Adamant.), So they all lived, YAY!

Taashath twisted her hands in front of her, while she sat impatiently as Evelyn curled her hair. “This is silly,” she said, reaching into her pocket to tug out the coin and rub it between her fingers. Talon stood on the other side of the room, a dress made of the darkest blue silk Taasha had ever seen. Delicate beading around the neckline, bottom hem and sleeves made it look like the night sky. “Can’t we do this some other night?” Some other night when she hadn’t just gotten her memories back and all she wanted to do was find Cullen and be alone with him.

Nearly an hour earlier, Talon had walked into the bakery, and after Taashath filled her in on what happened with her memories, insisted Taasha close up early. The trio had gone to Talon’s quarters, where Taashath had paced anxiously until Talon had all but pushed Taasha into a chair and insisted Evelyn do something with her hair. “Cullen is out with the troops right now,” Talon told her. “He’ll be back later, just let us fuss.”

“No offense,” Taashath said. “As much as I would very much love to spend an evening with the two of you, I want to be alone with Cullen right now. It’s been months-” Tears burned her eyes.

“And a few more hours won’t hurt,” Talon told her.

“Isn’t this a bit much for dinner in the tavern?” Taasha waved her hand at the dress, and then her own hair.

Talon smiled, walked over and gently cupped Taashath’s cheek. “You’re not coming to the tavern with us, I promised I wouldn’t say a word, but, oh well. Cullen is planning a romantic picnic for you.”

“What?” Taashath’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh.”

Behind her, Evelyn pinned a curl into place. “I don’t think you should tell him yet,” she said. “About your memories.”

“Why not?” Taashath started to turn her head, but Evelyn tugged carefully at her hair, making her face forward again.

“The man adores you, a romantic picnic where he wants you to get all prettied up for him? He has no restraint when it comes to worshiping you. I just think you should milk it for all that it is worth.”

Taashath could hear the shrug in Evelyn’s voice and she let out an indignant sound. “I most certainly will not-”

Talon laughed. “It isn’t a bad idea, I agree with Evie. Cullen is such a fool for you, I’m curious how far he’d go to show you how much he loves you.”

The two laughed, and Taashath pressed her lips into a thin line to keep herself from smiling. “You’re both terrible,” she said, but then, her own lips curved up into a smile and she looked down at the coin. “He loves me,” she whispered. Reaching back, she caught Evelyn’s hand as the other woman reached for a hairpin, and squeezed.

A few heartbeats later, Evelyn leaned forward, resting her cheek against the back of Taashath’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you,” she told her quietly. “He adores you,” Evelyn’s voice was thick, and they just sat there for a long moment before she pulled back and finished Taashath’s hair.

Once her hair was done, they helped her into the dress and then stood back and smiled. “You look beautiful,” Talon told her.

“I think this is better than the dress from the Winter Palace,” Evelyn said.

“Yes, well,” Taashath looked at her reflection in the mirror, twisting and turning to see all of the dress as it hung beautifully on her frame. “At least this time I shouldn’t have to worry about you having me auctioned off-” As soon as the words slipped past her lips her eyes went wide and she met Evelyn’s in the mirror.

“What?” Talon asked.

Taashath pressed her fingers to her lips and she whirled around, staring wide-eyed at Evelyn. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- I know it wasn’t you-”

Tears filled Evelyn’s eyes and Taashath had never felt more wretched until she began laughing. “Oh, Maker, I’m so glad you said it. That was all I could think about and-” she broke off, tears slipping down her cheeks unchecked, though Taashath couldn’t tell if it was from humor or distress.

“Oh, Evie,” she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around the much smaller woman, held her. “It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you,” she whispered again and again as Evelyn’s arms slipped around her waist.

Talon stepped forward, joined the hug, trapping Evelyn between herself and Taashath. “You are not responsible for the demon’s actions,” Talon said gently. “I don’t care what anyone else may say, or think. I have seen possession first hand. I’ve seen what it does. I’ve seen the aftermath. You survived, and it is not your fault.”

Evelyn squirmed between them after a few long minutes. “Okay, let me go, I don’t know why I keep crying-” she wiped at her cheeks and shook her head, before pointing a finger at Taashath. “Don’t you start, you’ll mess up that eyeliner.”

Taashath reached out before Evelyn could step farther away. “I don’t blame you, you know that right? For any of it.”

“Even for slashing at you repeatedly with a dagger? Or making you stab me?” Evelyn asked, her tone laced with false amusement, her eyes catching on the faint scars over Taashath’s arm. “Your back… how bad?”

“Barely there. You’re one of my best friends Evelyn, what’s a little backstabbing among friends?”

Talon slid her arm around Evelyn’s shoulders, squeeze her against her side. “It wasn’t you,” Talon murmured.

Evelyn leaned into the woman beside her and blinked back the tears that threatened once again. She was so grateful for these two. “You do look beautiful, Taasha.”

The taller woman smiled, gave a little twirl, and then stopped. “Oh! I need-” she broke off, looked at the door then back at the other two. “I need something from mine and Cullen’s quarters.”

“What?” Talon asked. “I can run and get it.”

Taashath bit her lip and squirmed. “There’s… it’s something I wore in Halamshiral.” Talon stared at her, waiting. “A garter and stockings. They are in the top drawer of the dresser. On the left-hand side.”

Talon didn’t move except to raise her brows. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you about the picnic. How am I supposed to explain that to Cullen if he finds me there?”

“You said he was out with the troops.”

“I lied!” Talon laughed. “I was hoping to get you to stop asking. He’s been back and forth trying to make everything perfect. For all I know he’s in your quarters right now.”

Taashath huffed quietly. She needed them. It was silly, this entire thing was, and her stomach was twisting with nerves. She knew that Cullen would be happy, so why was she so incredibly nervous about it all? “Cole!” she exclaimed suddenly.

A moment later the young man was beside her, causing Talon to jump and let out a startled shout. “What the-”

“He does that,” Evelyn explained.

“Can you grab something for me?” Taasha asked him quietly.

Cole canted his head to the side. “Silk against her skin. Gold and silver. Rough fingers on delicate skin-”

“Cole!” Evelyn said sharply.

He disappeared in the next moment. “That’s creepy,” Talon said, shaking her head. She stepped away from Evelyn and crossed to the table where she had the teapot sitting on a little candle warmer. She saw a flicker of movement and Cole was there again, handing a small silken bag to Taashath. He stood there for a moment, touched her cheek.

“They are all back. The good and the bad. She kept them safe,” he said, looking over to Evelyn.

“Did you know?” Taasha asked and Cole shook his head. Then he was gone again and Taashath made quick work of sitting down on the edge of a chair and tugging up the hem of the dress so she could pull on the stockings.

“Here,” Talon handed a mug of tea to Evelyn. “It is my current favorite. Good for the soul,” she said with a little smirk.

Evelyn raised a brow, but took the mug and sipped it. Warmth slid through her and she sighed quietly. “It is good.”

“I’ll mix you up some,” she told her watching Taashath finish clipping the stockings to the garter before she picked up a coin she’d set down on the table beside her. “Wait, is that-” Talon laughed quietly. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Cullen gave it to me,” Taashath told her, slipping the flat black slippers on her feet.

“I’d say I’m amazed he still has it, but I’m really not.” Talon shook her head a little, then at Evelyn’s confused look, she explained, “Cullen’s brother gave him that coin before he joined the Templars. It was probably the only thing he had in his pocket, a ridiculous token, even according to Cullen, but he’s carried it all these years.”

“He said it kept him safe,” Taashath said, worrying the coin between her fingers. “I don’t have pockets. I can’t… I can’t just hold it, but I’ve carried it since he gave it to me.”

Setting aside her mug, Evelyn reached up and unfastened the chain from around her neck, then slid the locket free from the chain and tucked it into her pocket. “Let me see it,” she said, holding out a hand.

“No,” Taashath shook her head. “What are you doing? I can’t take the chain. It’s yours-”

Evelyn plucked the coin from Taashath’s finger, then picked up a piece of thick gold thread. Carefully she wrapped the coin, tied it in a secure knot, then made a loop and slipped the chain through. “It’s just a chain,” Evelyn murmured. “I want you to have it.” She moved to stand beside Taashath, then looped the necklace over her head and gently fastened it at the base of Taashath’s neck.

The coin rested against the slope of her breasts, framed by the delicate beading of the dress. “Perfect,” Evelyn murmured then picked up the teacup again just to give her hands something to do.

Getting to her feet, Taashath looked in the mirror, could see both Talon and Evelyn behind her. “I am so grateful, for the both of you,” she said, blinking quickly so as not to start crying. She felt far more beautiful than she had in the dress at the Winter Palace. Simple, and pretty and with her friends by her side, her memories back, she’d never been happier.

“Come on,” Talon stepped up beside her, slipping her arm around Taashath’s. “I think Cullen has had enough time to make everything perfect for you.”

The three women slipped out of the room and made their way down the hall, there were several curious glances cast their way, but little more than that. “Why am I so nervous?” Taashath asked. “I have no reason to be nervous. But it feels as if there are dozens of butterflies in my belly.” The sun had begun to sink lower in the sky as they walked, and by the time they reached the edge of the clearing where the trees were so thick, it appeared to be the dead of night. But just ahead, there were lanterns glowing gently.

“He loves you,” Evelyn said, a gentle hand on Taashath’s back, nudging her forward.

“I know,” she murmured. “I know,” she repeated. “Thank you, both of you.” Then she continued walking, knowing the other two would make it back to Skyhold without any problem. Stepping beyond the edge of the tree line, Taasha’s heart skipped a beat, and it took all her willpower not to run headlong across the clearing and throw her arms around Cullen.

Cullen heard the rustle of leaves, looked up, and she watched the way his face relaxed into a gentle smile. “Darling,” he said, crossing to her. He wore simple dark trousers and a light colored tunic beneath a dark red coat.

“You look lovely,” she told him, holding a hand out as he came closer.

Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “And you, my love, my heart, are beautiful.” Ducking her head, she felt her cheeks heat. He reached up and his fingers gently touched the coin that lay at the crest of her breasts, then a fingertip skimmed over bare skin and she inhaled sharply. _Want_ causing heat to pool in her belly.

“Cullen,” she murmured, desperate to tell him, though now that she stood before him, she couldn’t quite find the words.

“No,” he said, holding up a hand, before letting it slide around the curve of her waist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I love you, Taashath, darling. I feel as if I’ve done a poor job of showing you. I’ll be honest, I do feel a bit at a loss of how to help you, but I know that must pale in comparison to how you feel without your own memories.” He kissed the knuckles of the hand he still held, then pressed her palm to his chest, over his heart. “But I want to be sure that you never doubt have a single doubt as to how much I adore you. I meant it when I told you that we will make new memories. I thought perhaps, a romantic dinner might be a good way to start.”

Taashath laughed quietly, tears burning her eyes. Behind Cullen, there was a blanket, a basket and a bottle of wine. “Cullen,” she murmured again, pressed her free hand to his jaw and lowered her head to kiss him sweetly. “Kadan,” it was a breath against his lips. “You love me,” she said, eyes slipping shut.

“With every beat of my heart.”

“I love you,” she told him, her eyes fluttering open.

Cullen gave his head a little shake. “Darling, you don’t have to say that, I know your memories aren’t, it’s alright. I was prepared to work for it before, I hadn’t expected you to return the feelings so quickly after I told you initially-”

“Cullen,” Taashath pressed her fingers to his lips, cutting off his words. “Kadan,” she murmured, kissing along his jaw to gently scrape her teeth over his ear lobe. He groaned, tugged her tighter against him, his fingers fisting the fabric of her dress at her hip. “I’m wearing the stockings,” she told him, felt his entire body go still against hers.

“What?” it was a rasp, and he turned his head, met her gaze.

“The ones I wore at the Winter Palace,” she slid her hand up from his chest, around the cup the back of his head, where her fingers carded through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I distinctly remember you saying you wanted to make love to me while I wore them and nothing else.”

Cullen stopped breathing. She saw his eyes darken, the pupils widen. “Taasha…?”

Her lips curved into a gentle smile and she pressed her forehead against his. “I love you, Cullen. My heart, it's so full, it may just explode.”


	67. Chapter 67

Evelyn felt oddly nervous about spending the evening with Talon, Zevran, and Alistair. It was silly, she thought, she’d spent enough time with them already in the short days since Alistair took the tonic that cured the Taint. But sitting down to share a meal, that was something completely different. She should have known better, she realized, hours later, that the trio wouldn’t allow any awkwardness.

Evelyn had enjoyed watching their interactions, listened to their stories, recounting tales from the Blight. Zevran had enjoyed needling Alistair, but it wasn’t cruel. Good-humored teasing. The friendship, the love, between all of them was so real, so pure that it made Evelyn’s heart ache.

Not once though had she felt shut out. They pulled her in, included her. It was strange, and it made her throat feel tight. They didn’t hate her for her past, they didn’t look at her any differently because of the mark on her hand. All three of them simply talked to her. Eventually, Alistair’s energy flagged, and he stood to excuse himself, Zevran tagged along, wanting to check on their son who had stayed with Morrigan.

Then it was just Talon and Evelyn sitting at the table, sipping the tea that Talon liked so much. “I’m glad you came,” Talon told her.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” Evelyn shot back, but she felt her lips twist into a little smile. Tears burned her eyes and she blinked quickly, annoyed that she seemed so emotional lately. “I’m glad I came. I… you’re all so kind. Accepting.”

Talon laughed softly. “I was a mage, who they threatened to make Tranquil for my involvement in trying to help another mage, who happened to be practicing blood magic. Zevran is an assassin. Alistair is the bastard son of the former King. Who are we to judge?”

“I wish...” Evelyn stared into her cup, watched the little tendrils of steam twist up and dissipate. “I wish that I had met you all a long time ago. Alistair has been...” she trailed off, unsure how to put into words how grateful she was for him. She looked up, found Talon watching her and felt her cheeks flush. “It isn’t like that,” she said quickly.

“Isn’t like what?” Talon asked, her brows drawing together.

“Whatever you’re thinking. Alistair has been a friend to me when I had no one else.” She felt her cheeks go hotter because hadn’t she said the same about Thom once? “It isn’t-”

“I know,” Talon’s voice was gentle as she reached out, her hand covering Evelyn’s. “I know that, Evie. Alistair knows that too. You don’t owe me or anyone else any explanations.”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes and a sob escaped her lips. Evelyn fumbled to put the teacup down and covered her face with her hands. “I miss him so much,” the words were a strangled whisper. “I see him, in my dreams and I… I killed him. I loved him and I killed him.”

Evelyn’ felt the chair she was in move out from the table, and Talon was there, kneeling in front of her and wrapping strong arms around her shoulders. “It wasn’t you,” she murmured. “You didn’t kill him.”

“But I did!”

“The demon killed him. Not you. It was not you.”

Evelyn clung to the other woman, her cheek against her shoulder as she wept. “I want him to hate me. I want him to hate me as much as I hate myself.” Talon made soft sounds, her fingers stroking the back of Evelyn’s head. It was a startling realization to Evelyn as she sobbed that no one had held her. She’d never had the chance to mourn her husband and her son. They had been killed and she’d been informed and with no close ties, she’d had no one to confide in. 

“But he doesn’t, does he?” Talon asked gently and Evelyn shook her head. “Because you’re not to blame. Because he loves you as much as you love him.” Another sob broke free. Evelyn didn’t want to believe it. “Thom loves you, and Isaak, your darling son, he loves you. Alexander, he loves you too. Do you know why?” Evelyn shook her head because she never understood it. Couldn’t figure out how anyone could love her. “Because they saw the good in you. They saw your heart, and you loved them.”

Her throat ached from the tears and Evelyn knew that Talon’s knees must hurt from kneeling on the hardwood plank floor, but they stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the tears slowed and Evelyn drew back. “I’m sorry, I-”

Talon took her face between her hands, held it, thumbs wiping at the wet streaks. “Don’t apologize,” she told her. “I only want one thing,” she murmured. “No more blaming yourself for what happened when the demon had control over you.” Evelyn opened her mouth to protest, but Talon was having none of it. “No. I want you to promise, never again. _You_ are not responsible. _You_ did not do those things.”

Evelyn swallowed hard, jerked her head in a nod. “Alright,” she said, though she didn’t mean it.

“I want your promise,” Talon said. “Promise me, right here and now, Evelyn.”

“I can’t,” it came out a whisper.

Talon stared at her for a long moment. “Baby steps,” she murmured. “We’ll take baby steps. A demon was responsible for Thom’s death, say it.”

The words locked in her throat, but finally, she managed to get them out. “A demon,” her voice cracked. “A demon killed Thom. Not me,” a quiet whisper and she broke again, pressed her face into her hands and sobbed.

 

The basket of food and the bottle of wine were shoved aside as Cullen took Taashath down to the blanket. “How?” he asked, stretching out over her, his weight braced on an elbow beside her head, while his other hand traced along her horn, down her temple and cheek.

“Evelyn,” she murmured, arching into the touch as his fingertips reached her jaw. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you everything, after.” He had all but given up hope of her ever getting her memories back.

“Evelyn?” How had Evelyn been the key? Well, he supposed it might make sense, seeing as how Taashath had lost her memories helping her.

“Cullen,” Taasha said, her tone holding amused exasperation. “Darling.” She cupped his jaw and hooked one knee up against his side, the full skirt of the dress allowing her movement. “I’ll tell you everything, _after_. Right now, I need you. Please, Cullen.” One hand curled in the hem of his shirt and tugged and his focus zeroed in on her.

She was back. She was his. She remembered. Cullen claimed her mouth in a kiss that was all tongues and nipping teeth. He made his way down her throat, her breasts, touching the coin that hung from a chain around her neck now. He liked it there. Perfect. Farther down, he knelt at her feet, tugged off her slippers and skimmed his hands up her calves, pushing the hem of the dress up as he went.

“Cullen,” Taasha pushed up onto her elbows, her breasts heaving, practically spilling from the low cut bodice. She looked at him and there was love and knowledge in the gaze. She knew everything. Still loved him despite it. “Get back up here,” she murmured.

He smirked, shook his head and nudged the dress up higher, over her knees. “I have plans for these stockings,” he told her, and heard her soft gasp as he pressed a tender kiss to the inside of first one knee, then the other, then higher.

Cullen teased and kissed and lapped at her, felt her fingers tangle in his hair, heard her breathing turn into soft gasps. Her soft cry of his name was the most beautiful sound as he pushed back up onto his knees, leaned over her and met her gaze. “My heart,” he whispered. “My darling, Taashath.”

She reached for him and they quickly stripped each other, though he insisted she keep the stockings on and he slid his hand over the silken fabric as she curled her legs around his waist when he settled between her thighs. “Cullen,” Taashath breathed out his name, then moaned as he slid home inside her. She met his gaze, held it, despite the tears that filled her eyes.

“Forever, darling,” he murmured, weight propped on his elbow beside her head, his free hand tracing her face.

“Forever, Kadan,” she breathed, fingers digging into his back, holding onto him, drawing him deeper.

 

Much later, Taashath lay sprawled out over Cullen, her cheek on his chest, her hand resting over his heart. Their breathing had finally grown slow and steady. One of his hands rested on her back, the other toyed with a curl that had fallen loose. She lifted her head, rested her chin on the back of her hand while her other hand shifted, touched the coin that she wore but lay against his skin now.

Cullen’s eyes fluttered open and the corners of his mouth twisted up into a smile as he looked down at her. “You love me,” she said.

“Forever,” Cullen agreed.

“Forever,” Taashath echoed. She tilted her head, looked at the coin. “Forever,” she repeated, her heart beating faster in her chest. “Cullen-”

His brow furrowed and he reached up, cupped her jaw. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Marry me,” she said the words and then held her breath. “I mean… would you? Can we?” Her breath caught in her throat.

Cullen stared at her for a long moment, then moved, rolling them over and tucking her beneath him. He pressed a kiss to her lips, slow and sweet. “Forever, Taasha,” he murmured. “Yes, absolutely, yes, my darling. Whenever you want, where ever you want. Just say the word.”

She smiled, laughed and then a happy sob escaped her and she threw her arms around his shoulders and held onto him. “I love you,” she told him. “I love you, I love you. Maker, I missed you.”


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Including my attempt at [Taashath](https://andaran-atish-an.tumblr.com/post/183899199988/taashath-adaar-rutherford-i-will-surround-you) in her wedding dress...  
> Also - Song inspiration [Rose of Sharon by Mumford and Sons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVuCjcxWIYE)

Two nights later, after a flurry of wild activity in Skyhold, Taashath stood with Cullen in the gardens, fingers clasped together, and though their friends stood nearby, watching the small ceremony, they saw nothing but each other. Quiet vows made, Taashath smiled through the tears that rolled down her cheeks, and reached out to touch Cullen’s jaw when his own eyes filled.

“Forever,” Cullen murmured with a tender kiss as Mother Giselle announced their union to the small crowd.

 

After, as the night grew darker, all of Skyhold celebrated with dancing and drinking and music. Cullen smiled, watching Taashath as she danced with Miri before Oliver swept in to steal the dwarven woman away. Taasha turned, met his gaze and her face was alight with amusement and joy. It made Cullen’s chest feel tight. Barely a week ago she flinched away from him. Lifting a hand he crooked his finger and she made her way toward him, hips swaying gently.

The gauzy golden fabric of the dress clung to her curves and billowed out as she walked. Her hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders, and a delicate wreath of flowers sat atop her head like a crown. _Maker_ , he thought, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Coming to a stop in front of him, Cullen reached up, his hands sliding over her hips and then he tugged her down to sit across his lap. Taashath laughed, slid her arms around his shoulders and kissed him soundly.

“You’re drunk,” he said with a grin.

She pulled back, affronted. “I am not!” she gasped out, her voice a bit louder than necessary. “Alright, I might be a little bit tipsy, but the wine,” she cooed, her cheeks going pink with excitement. “It tastes like flowers.” Taashath reached out, plucked one of the discarded flower crowns the children had made and placed it on Cullen’s head.

Chuckling, he didn’t protest the flower crown, one hand sliding over the curve of her bottom to rest on her thigh, holding her close as his other hand, hidden by the folds of fabric slipped under the hem, up and over her knee, the edge of her stocking and to rest against bare skin.

“Cullen,” Taasha hissed, her hand slapping down against his as her eyes darted around, making sure no one could see.

“Yes, darling wife?”

She looked at him and he watched her expression melt from chagrin to pure love. “Husband,” she murmured, leaning in to rest her forehead against his. “Someone will see,” Taashath murmured, though she didn’t protest when his hand shifted, slipping between her thighs, just resting there, holding her, the touch intimate, possessive, but not sexual.

He chuckled quietly. “There is so much fabric, no one can see anything,” he assured her, squeezed. “And so what if they do. You’re my wife.”

Taashath sighed, rested her cheek against his shoulder, tucking herself into his arms as the music and celebrations continued. “Husband,” she said it again, in absolute awe. Absently she rubbed her thumb over the simple band on her finger. Cullen wore a matching one. They were plain, no ornamentation to them. Angling her head so she could watch the others dance, she smiled seeing Evelyn.

The small woman had found a friend in Talon and for that Taashath was so grateful. The two were dancing to the lively tune, spinning and laughing. Alistair joined them, snagging Talon, and then Zevran had Evelyn, and still, Evelyn smiled. Not far away, Oliver held Brisa, dancing her around the circle while Miri watched a delighted smile on her face.

Taashath knew Evelyn still struggled with it all. With the repercussions of what the demon did, with her own anger that no one stopped her sooner. But at least there was civility between those who had joined the Inquisition to help and the Inquisitor. “Did you ever imagine… all of this?” she asked Cullen.

“Not even for a moment,” he admitted.

“Neither did I,” she told him. “I adore you, you know that?”

Cullen angled his head, rubbed his cheek, already stubbled, though he’d shaved just before the ceremony, against her own. “I thought maybe you might,” he told her.

“I don’t think the party is ending anytime soon,” Taashath murmured.

“Are you tired, darling?” Cullen asked his hand on her hip sliding up to cup the back of her head. Taashath made a quiet sound in the back of her throat, then she shifted, dipped her hand between them, hidden by herself and the skirt of her dress, she slipped her fingers under the hem of Cullen’s shirt and brushed her fingers over his stomach.

“Not exactly, husband.” Lifting her head, she met his gaze and her eyes were full of heat. Cullen shifted his hand between her thighs, brushed his fingers over the heat concealed by her smalls and heard her quiet inhale of breath. “They’ll notice if we both get up and leave,” she said, shifted her hips and he pressed harder against her, rubbing slow circles with the backs of his knuckles through the thin fabric.

Cullen made a quiet sound, glanced around as if he wasn’t completely consumed by his task. Taashath let out a quiet mewl of pleasure and turned her face against his throat. His erection throbbed and his next breath was a struggle when she shifted her hips and rubbed up against it. “Cullen, you can’t-” she whispered, her breath hitched and he could feel the dampness of her heat on his fingertips. He wanted his mouth there. “Someone will-” Taashath squeaked and he grinned.

The dancing continued, most were deep in their cups. “Go,” he said softly, withdrawing his hand. “I’ll meet you in our quarters in a few minutes.”

Taashath lifted her head, met his gaze and her eyes dark and she kissed him. One hand on the back of his head, her tongue dipping in, to stroke over his. There were a few catcalls and when she broke the kiss, her lips damp, wearing a slight smirk, Cullen nearly tossed her over his shoulder and made off with her. “Go,” he said again, this time between clenched teeth.

“I love you,” she told him, shifted in his lap, this time intentionally rubbing against the length of his cock. Then she was out of his lap, casting a glance over her shoulder as she stopped to get another goblet of wine before disappearing.

_Five minutes_ , Cullen thought. He’d give her five minutes. Let people get distracted again. _Maybe three_. A hand slid along his shoulder and he glanced up, found Talon leaning into his side.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” she said, glancing at him with a smirk. “To be honest, I think everyone is surprised the two of you lasted as long as you have.”

“I don’t-” he shook his head, Talon raised her brows at him and he flushed. “Thank you, Talon.”

The dark-haired woman beside him waved her hand, dismissively. “You don’t need to-”

“I don’t mean just for helping with the wedding, or the other night when I wanted to surprise her. For everything. For letting me love you ten years ago. For keeping Taasha safe for me when I couldn’t. The list is endless.”

Talon smiled at him, cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Ditto,” she told him, then ruffled his hair a little with a quiet laugh. “Go,” she said. “Your wife is waiting for you.”

Cullen didn’t need to be told twice, he stood up and with single-minded determination, he followed the path Taashath had taken away from the celebration. He caught her around the waist as she reached the base of the stone stairs up to the rampart. Pressing her against the wall, he kissed her and she moaned, one arm sliding around his shoulders, the other still holding the glass of wine. It was tempting, he thought, the idea of taking her right there against the wall. “But, Ser,” she moaned quietly. “I am a married woman.”

Eyes narrowing at her, he saw her lips threatening to turn up into a grin. A sound caught his attention and he looked up, saw a scout peering over the edge of the wall and Cullen scowled. “Back to your post!” he shouted and the scout jumped and disappeared.

“So commanding, Commander,” Taasha murmured, ducking her head to press kisses along his jaw. He cupped her bottom, squeezed, pulling her lower body tight against his.

“If you don’t want me to spin you around and take you right here and now, get up the stairs.”

Taashath lifted her head and looked at him, silently debating just how serious he was. All too serious for her, she thought, then laughed and pushed at his chest, caught up the hem of her skirt and ran up the stairs. Cullen followed, hot on her heels, caught up against the door to one of the rooms used along the ramparts. “Ser,” she exclaimed, giving him another playful shove. “My husband would not approve!” she tried to keep her tone indignant, but the giggle that escaped her as she twisted in his arms and broke away again ruined the effect.

Then Taashath pushed through the door, darted across the room, out the other door and spun. Cullen stood there, watching her, his eyes dark with want. She grinned, slammed the door and ran again. Taasha was just scrambling over the edge of the loft when she heard the door downstairs creak open, then shut with a thump. The lock slid home and she glanced around the loft, willed the candles to burn and waited.

Heavy footsteps across the room and her heartbeat fluttering in her chest were all she could hear. Cullen reached the top of the ladder and her heart skipped several beats. He was hers. He had been for so long, but now, he was truly _hers_.

“My lady,” he murmured, hand extended as he crossed to her. She held her hand out, let him tug her flush against his body. “My wife. My love. My darling.”

Taasha slipped her fingers into his hair, tugged lightly and angled his head back so she could kiss him, slow and languorous. The music could still be heard and her mouth twisted up. “Dance with me?” she asked against his lips.

Cullen’s arms were already around her, one hand slid over the small of her back, the other reached up, found her hand and brought it down to rest it against his chest. “Always,” he told her as they began to move slowly, their movements not matching the pace of the song down in the courtyard. “Why didn’t you ask earlier?”

Taasha leaned back enough to look at him. “Because I know how much you hate dancing.”

“I would have, for you,” he told her.

“I know,” Taashath murmured. “But I think I’d rather dance with you alone, without anyone else around.”

“I adore you, you know that?”

Laughing softly, she ducked her head and kissed him. “I thought maybe you might,” she echoed his earlier words. They continued swaying to the music. Taashath reached up and carefully removed the crown of flowers that was definitely worse for wear, and pulled away to lay it on the dresser, then ducking her head, she let Cullen remove hers.

“Your husband would very much like to take you to bed and make love to you,” he said, his hand sliding along her side.

“Oh,” her brows knit together, but Cullen saw the amusement. “I suppose I should go find him th-” she yelped when he pinched the curve of her bottom.

“You’re a brat,” Cullen told her and she flashed him a smile, before turning to give him her back.

“Undo me,” she said, reaching up to pull her hair out of the way.

Tiny buttons ran down the back of the gown and Cullen took his time, slowly releasing each one, pressing kisses against her spine as he made his way down to the small of her back. Then he kissed his way back up her spine, and nudged the dress off her shoulders and held her hand as she stepped out of it. She bent to the dress, lifting it off the floor and he watched her move to hang the dress, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles.

The shift she wore was one of the thinnest cotton, soft as silk and the delicate straps were lacy. Turning, she met his gaze and her cheeks went pink. “What?” Taasha asked, tugging at a lock of her hair.

“You’re beautiful,” Cullen told her, tugging her into him again before tumbling them down to the bed.

Taashath smiled, wrapping herself around him as Cullen settled between her thighs on the bed. “It undoes me when you look at me like that.”

“Well,” Cullen propped his weight on an elbow, slid his free hand down her side, and along her thigh, dipping beneath the hem of her shift. “You’ll grow accustomed to it, as I plan to look at you like that for the rest of our lives.”

Humming quietly in her throat, she lifted her head, kissed him, then gave his shoulder a shove. “You’re wearing far too many clothes, husband.”


	69. Chapter 69

Morning came far too early for Taashath. Dawns light began to creep in, slipping through cracks and crevices. She and Cullen had only just fallen asleep it felt like. They had made love again and again. Slow and languid. Hard and fast. He’d taken her on her knees and she’d ridden him, with no shame. Now, they lay, legs entangled, bodies pressed so close together that she could feel his heartbeat against her own. One of his hands cupped her bottom, the other arm pillowed her head, wrapped around and gripped her shoulder, holding her against him. _Every morning_ , she thought. _They would wake like this every single morning for the rest of their lives. Once this war was over._

Nuzzling his jaw, she kissed his throat, heard him make a quiet sound, his grip on her tightening. The thin blanket tangled around their waists and she pushed at it as she squirmed out of his grip and kissed a trail down his body. “Taasha,” he groaned, his fingers sliding into her hair. Cullen hadn’t opened his eyes, and she smiled, her lips against his hip bone as she wondered if he was still half asleep. After nudging him onto his back, she settled between his thighs and pressed kisses over every inch of skin she could reach while her fingers gently coaxed his erection into waking hardness.

“Taasha,” he groaned again, his fingers tightening in her hair. She looked up, met his heated gaze. “Get up here,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

She hummed quietly. “I will when I’m done.” She took him in her mouth and he turned the air blue with quiet curses. Salt on her tongue, Taashath bobbed her head, sucked and let her hands wander, sliding over his thighs, up over his taut stomach.

“Fuck,” Cullen rasped, gripped her horn and tugged. “Taashath. Fuck. I’m going to-” he broke off when she took him deeper, bumping the back of her throat. “I want to spill inside you. I want you wet and slick on me.”

The words made her thighs clench and she couldn’t deny him. Sliding her mouth off him with an obscene slurp, she crawled over him, then let him roll her to her side. They lay chest to chest and she hooked her knee around his waist and he slipped inside easily. Then his mouth was on hers kissing her, tasting. This new position restricted their movements, but neither seemed to mind. Sort rocking motions from Cullen as she angled her hips toward his and held him.

Pleasure took them both, in a gentle wave that was no less powerful for its aching slowness. Sweaty and spent, Cullen rolled onto his back again, dragging Taashath tight against him as he did and they didn’t speak for a long time as more light seeped in. “You’ll be careful,” she said, her voice thick.

Cullen and the troops, Evelyn and her companions were leaving for the Arbor Wilds in a matter of hours. “I promise,” he vowed, ducking his head to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

“And you’ll keep an eye on Evelyn?”

“Yes, darling.” They lay in bed, putting off the inevitable for as long as they possibly could. Finally, they got up, dressed, all the while reaching out to the other.

“You’ll write to me,” she said and then smiled at the face he made. “As your wife, I demand to know you’re alright.”

“Yes, my wife,” Cullen said, his arms sliding around her waist for one last long kiss. They parted again, and Cullen went to join the troops, to finish the last minute preparations, while Taashath retreated to her bakery, desperate to throw herself into the routine in hopes of distracting herself.

 

Evelyn frowned as she attempted to finish the last of her packing. Her armor was gone. It no longer hung on the stand where she remembered putting it after taking the time to clean it upon returning from Adamant. Her boots were there. The gloves. But the chest piece was missing. A strange frantic worry knotted in her belly. Was the demon really gone? Her head ached, but not in the same way. She’d stayed up far too late to be up so early.

The celebration for Taashath and Cullen had been a wonderful thing, had made her heart ache with jealousy and joy. She had danced and laughed and for a few hours, she’d forgotten everything else.

A knock on the door at the base of the stairs had her frowning. “Who is it?” she called.

“Tally,” came the answering reply. “I have something for you.” Then the door opened and the other woman made her way up the stairs. In her arms was Evelyn’s breastplate. Though it looked different.

“Where did you get that?” she asked, holding out her hands. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Talon laughed quietly and shook her head. “Nothing is wrong with it. I took it down to Dagna, oh, I’m so proud of her. You know I met her in Orzammar during the Blight? I had a few suggestions, and she had some ideas of her own. Together, we made a few improvements.” Evelyn inspected it, looking it over. Similar to what she’d worn before. But with added plating down the front and back. “It shouldn’t hinder your movement, but adds a little more protection around those soft squishy insides.”

“Why?”

Talon canted her head to the side, opened her mouth, then closed it. “To keep you safe,” she finally said. “Try it on, make sure everything fits right.”

Evelyn did, though she had no idea why Talon had done this. There had been nothing wrong with her armor before. She easily pulled it on, then twisted her body, shifting, lifting and swinging her arms to be sure it didn’t change her range of motion. “It’s perfect,” she admitted. “Thank you.” Sliding her hands down over the plates that covered her middle she frowned. “What is this?”

“Dragon bone,” Talon said with a shrug.

“D-dragon bone? Where did you get dragon bone?”

Talon grinned. “I have my sources. Now, I’ll let you finish getting ready to go. You’ll be safe, right?”

Unable to help herself, Evelyn laughed and shook her head. “Yes, mother.” Though her own mother had never cared so much as Talon did. Tears burned her eyes and annoyed, she blinked them back quickly.

“And you have the tea I made you?”

“Yes,” she laughed again quietly. “Talon, I-” Evelyn curled her hands into fists. “I can’t thank you enough, or ever repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me. Without you I-”

Talon waved it away, stepped forward to drag the other woman into a tight embrace. “We’re friends, Evie. That is what friends do.”

Evelyn hugged her back, careful of her armor so it didn’t jab into the other woman. Then with a final wave and a goodbye, Talon was gone and Evelyn finished gathering her things. She met the others at the gates and kept her back straight. Evelyn didn’t need their approval or acceptance. Mounting her horse, she waited for the final order to move out.

Cullen nudged his horse up beside her. “Lady Trevelyan,” he inclined his head.

“Commander,” she replied. Then a few minutes later, they were moving out. Heading for the Arbor Wilds.

 

Talon, Zevran, their son and Alistair all joined Taashath at the bakery, and not long after, Miri came as well. Oliver had left for the Arbor Wilds as well, and it was the first time since the fire that they had been apart. “They’ll be okay,” Miri announced, obviously trying to reassure herself as much as everyone else.

“Of course they will,” Talon said, holding her hands out to take Brisa. None of them would dare allow anything to happen to each other.”


	70. Chapter 70

After nearly two weeks of riding, the next day would have them arriving in the Arbor Wilds. Evelyn felt sick nearly constantly now, anxious and a little bit afraid. They would finally find out what it was that Corypheus wanted out here. She knew that she’d been kept out of the loop of information no longer one they trusted. To Evelyn, that part didn’t matter. She’d always been a soldier. A grunt. She followed orders. She would happily allow Cassandra to lead.

Spotting Cullen sitting by one of the fires, alone, scowling down at the quill in his hand. “Everything alright?” she asked, walking over, sitting near enough that she could hear him, but with enough distance that if he chose to ignore her, she could try and pretend he wasn’t there as well.

“What?” he asked, glancing up, frowned and huffed quietly. “Yes, fine.” He went back to staring at the parchment and Evelyn looked away.

It didn’t hurt as much now, she realized. When those of the Inquisition’s Inner Circle casually eschewed her. Her anger with them had faded too. Oh, she was still mad, still heaved plenty of the blame for all the madness on them, but she wasn’t consumed by it any longer. Talon, she thought, was largely to thank for that.

“Taashath asked that I write to her,” Cullen said suddenly and she glanced over at him, surprised that he volunteered the information.

“Oh,” Evelyn’s brows drew together. “And you don’t want to?” she asked, not understanding.

“I’m not… I’m not like Varric. Being verbose is not my strong suit.”

Shaking her head a little, Evelyn thought of Taashath. Her friend. The one who, in spite of everything, had been kind to her. It warmed her heart to know that she was happy. “I am fairly certain Taasha doesn’t expect you to write her some great novel of our journey.” She thought of the letters she had written to Alexander the few times they’d been apart for more than a few days. He’d always kept them. “Just reassure her that things are fine, that you miss her.” Her throat felt tight and the tears that always seemed so near the surface lately burned her eyes. She blinked, blamed the smoke from the fire. “She knows you, I’m sure she’s familiar with your dislike for writing letters.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Cullen said but the look of concern still creased his brows. “I want her happiness more than anything else in this world. I worry that I won’t do a good enough job of reminding her how much she means to me.”

Evelyn’s chest felt tight and she swallowed, looking away to blink a few times. “She knows, Cullen. Everyone knows. I don’t think that is ever something you’ll have to worry about.” Standing up, she murmured a quiet good night before slipping into her tent. Finding the tiny wooden bird, Evelyn stretched out on her bedroll, clutched it against her chest and closed her eyes. Jealousy was a bitter emotion. Cullen and Taashath were so in love, so happy. She couldn’t help but wonder if she and Thom ever would have had that kind of joy.

 

Taashath had barely slept in the long weeks that Cullen had been away. She’d tried to curl up in their bed but ended up on the couch every night when she would finally give up and try to sleep. She’d kept herself busy. Helping everyone she could with any little task. Long hours at the bakery, her friends were there often, and then the evenings more nights than not, they spent together sharing a meal. All worried. All desperate for a distraction.

“My lady,” one of Leliana’s scouts appeared at her elbow as she made her way slowly back to Cullen’s office. The short woman handed her a small scroll and then inclined their head before hurrying off.

A frown marring her features she tore off the wax seal and quickly unrolled it. Immediately all the worry melted away and she clutched the letter to her chest and ran the rest of the way to the office. Curling up on the couch, she unrolled it again.

_Darling,_

_My heart._

_I miss you terribly._

_I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve started to write to you. Actually, I can. Fourteen. Each time I found it impossible to put my thoughts into words. I can’t offer you any romantic prose. All I can say is this, I love you. I miss having you beside me, I miss the sound of your voice. I miss the feel of your head tucked beneath my chin while we sleep._

_We will arrive in the Arbor wilds tomorrow, though, by the time you read this, we will likely be moving against Corypheus and his forces. Our troops are strong, try not to worry._

_I adore you._

_Love,_

_Your husband_

Taashath read the letter half a dozen times, as Parrot came and curled up in the bend of her knees. He’d be fine, she reassured herself, clutching the letter to her chest with one hand, while she curled her other fist around the coin he’d given her. Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer, then blew out the candle before curling up on the couch to sleep. And for the first night since he’d left, she fell asleep a little easier.

A few short hours later her sleep was disturbed by the sound of someone knocking on the door. Jerking upright, her heart in her throat, Taashath lit the candle as she hurried to the door. Yanking it open it took several long moments for her mind to process who stood on the other side. A dream, she told herself, because it was impossible for Evelyn to be standing in front of her.

“There was an eluvian in the Temple of Mythal and we came through that,” Evelyn explained. “Cassandra is writing to Cullen and the others right now, letting them know that we’re… here.”

Taashath opened her mouth, closed it, then reached out and touched the other woman’s shoulder. She’s real, she thought, then tugged her into a hug. “Tell me what happened.” Her hands were trembling and Evelyn took the candle from her as they walked into the office, closed the door and sat on the couch. “Is Cullen… are they alright?”

“So far as I know...” Evelyn sighed softly. “Between the allies that the Inquisition has garnered, getting to the temple was simple enough. We had no real trouble against them. I saw Cullen, left him only after we killed every Red Templar within sight. But… Corypheus’ stupid dragon showed up. We ended up sealing the door of the Temple. Did you know that Calpernia was a slave before?” Taashath shook her head a little. “Cassandra did. Showed her some spell that Corypheus planned to use to bind her.

“I think Cassandra wanted to kill her, she’d helped Corypheus, but he’d lied to her. I couldn’t… how could I punish someone for that? I told her to go, I’m pretty sure that Cassandra is going to bite my head off later. Then there was a well and Morrigan drank from it and then Corypheus was there again…he died but… any Blighted creature… oh, I have to tell Talon.”

She moved as if to get up, but Taashath reached out and caught her arm. “It’s late, Talon is sleeping. You should be too.” Taasha stood, gave Evelyn’s shoulder a gentle push. “You’re exhausted, just lay down and sleep for a bit. You can tell Talon everything in the morning.”

Evelyn protested a little more, but Taashath wouldn’t relent. She grabbed the blanket, draped it over the woman and Parrot took it as an invitation to curl up against her. “Just sleep,” Taasha repeated and the other woman let out a slow breath. Her eyes fluttered shut and seemingly between one breath and the next, she was asleep.

Silently, Taashath slipped out of the office and made her way across to the other tower and up the stairs. If Cassandra was sending them a message, she’d be there. Sure enough, as she crested the top, Taashath found Cassandra sitting at the desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment. “Oh,” Cassandra gave her a wide-eyed look. “What are you- Evelyn?”

“She gave me the run down. The Temple, Corypheus, the dragon, the well.” Twisting her hands together, she did her best to stay calm. Cullen was fine. The others, they would be fine. “I am sure you don’t, but is there anything else you know, are they okay? Cullen and the others?”

Cassandra gave her head a little shake. “I’m writing to them now. If you would like to include a message, I’ll delay a few minutes. But they must know.”

“Of course,” Taashath nodded, grabbed a piece of parchment, scrawled a quick note to Cullen, then handed it over and watched Cassandra attach the missive to the crow. Then they stood side by side, staring after the black bird as it disappeared into the night.

 

Cullen had expected more from the battle. More from Corypheus and more from the dragon. But it had been relatively short-lived. Any Red Templars not killed had retreated and they spent hours waiting for Evelyn and her companions to exit the Temple. Only they didn’t. Hours ticked by slowly and he gathered a small retinue and went to investigate. The doors were sealed. No way to get in without breaking it down. And considering witnesses said a dragon had tried to take it out, Cullen didn’t imagine they would have any luck. So all they could do was wait.

The sun was beginning to creep up over the horizon when Leliana found him, handed him a roll of parchment. He frowned, then began to unroll it while half listening to Leliana as she explained that Cassandra had written, and they were all safe back at Skyhold. He blinked, confused, but then looked back at the letter. Taashath’s delicate script.

_Husband,_

_If I wanted someone to write pretty words for me, I’d ask Varric. I love you. Come home._

_Love,_

_Your darling_

A smile tugged up the corner of his mouth, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Let’s return to Skyhold then.”


	71. Chapter 71

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, I've been in a bit of a writing funk lately, and the joys of moving-stress once again. But here we are! One shiny-new Chapter!

It was exhausting being left behind, Taashath thought as she made her way from the bakery back into Skyhold proper. She hadn’t had a decent nights sleep since Cullen left and despite the fact that she knew he was very much alive and well, she wouldn’t sleep well until he was back. Gathering her things, she headed for the bathhouse, sunk deep into the water and willed her body to relax. Just a few more days, she told herself. A few more days and Cullen would be back. Evelyn too, likely. She’d left with Morrigan, Cassandra, and the others to go obtain a way to defeat Corypheus’ dragon.

There were voices, shouting and Taashath frowned, staring at the door. Something was wrong. She scrambled out of the tub, cursed loudly as she yanked her clothes over wet skin, her hair dripped down her back as she shoved her feet into her boots and hurried out of the bathhouse to see what the commotion was.

Her heart nearly stopped. A few horses. And the one person her heart had ached to see for nearly a month. He saw her, she saw Cullen’s lips twist into a slight smirk as he dismounted and then she was running. The crowd that had gathered upon the Commander’s return parted and left her a straight line for him. “Cullen!”

He caught her against his chest, lifted her clear off her feet and spun her once, his face pressed against her neck. Distantly, she heard the cheering, but all she could focus on was the fact that Cullen was back. “Taasha, darling,” he murmured, setting her down and drawing back enough to peer up at her face. “Maker, I’ve missed you.”

“You’re early,” she said allowing him to lean back enough to look up at her.

“I rode ahead,” Cullen told her, reaching up to push back a lock of wet hair. “Looks like I interrupted you.”

“Well, now you can join me,” Taasha stole a quick kiss and drew back at the sound of catcalls and whistling. Her cheeks flushed and she took a step back. Cullen’s gaze raked over her, caught. Glancing down her eyes widened and she quickly crossed her arms over the very damp and now transparent shirt that left nothing to the imagination.

Cullen grinned, shucked his mantle and wrapped it around her shoulders, tugging it together in front of her. “Lead the way, my love.” His arm slipped around her waist and Taashath leaned into his side as they made their way back toward the bathhouse, inside and to the private alcove farthest from the front. Cullen set to filling the tub while Taashath tugged at her wet clothes.

Naked once again, Taasha slipped into the tub and crooked a finger at Cullen. He sat on the edge of the tub, tugged at his bootlaces while Taashath leaned against the edge of the tub, her chin resting on her hand as she watched him shed his clothing. “Have you any idea how much I missed you?” she asked softly.

“Likely as much as I missed you,” he murmured, leaning down to stroke a lock of her hair back and kiss her. Taashath took his hand, kissed it and then tugged until he climbed in and settled between her thighs, his back against her chest.

“Never again,” she said quietly, picking up the bar of soap she worked up a lather and rubbed it over his chest while pressing her cheek against the side of his head. “Being left behind like that… I can’t-” her voice cracked. “I don’t-” the words lodged in her throat. His hand covered hers, squeezed. “I know I’m not a fighter. But-”

Cullen angled his head back, pressed a kiss to Taashath’s jaw. “You can stay wherever we set up camp.”

She resumed her task of rubbing her soapy hands over Cullen’s chest, his arms. “I thought you’d argue,” she admitted, then felt his quiet chuckle more than heard it.

“I know better than to argue with you, my darling. Besides, I meant it, I missed you terribly. Since we found each other in Haven, we’ve hardly spent a night apart and the time that we did, was utterly miserable. I only just got you back.”

“Maker’s breath, I love you,” Taasha murmured, holding onto him.

Cullen smiled, sighing as he relaxed in her arms. “Tell me what you did while I was away.” They spent a long time in the tub, discussing what they did in their time apart, while Taashath used her magic to warm the water every now and then. Finally, as Cullen started to doze off, Taasha gently prodded him out of the tub.

“Let’s go to bed, Kadan.”

He was asleep before his head even touched the pillow. Taashath curled herself around him, then felt the padding of little paws as Parrot climbed over her and curled up in front of Cullen. She wasn’t the only one who had missed him.

Taashath woke hours later and she knew Cullen was awake, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her hip. “Cullen?” she murmured sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t speak for a long moment, then pressed his lips to her temple. “I was just thinking,” he spoke quietly. “What happens when this is all over?”

“What do you mean?”

“Once Corypheus is defeated, it’s only a matter of time, we have the dragon now, the means of defeating him. The Inquisition will still stand, there is much to do, besides, people have made Skyhold home.”

Taashath pushed up onto her elbow, looked down at him. “What are you talking about?”

“This loft has been all well and good but, moving forward...” Cullen cupped her cheek. “We can’t exactly raise a family up here.”

She blinked at him. They’d never properly discussed it. Not about a family or having children. Taashath had started taking the tonics to help prevent her from getting pregnant, and Cullen knew, but beyond her telling him she’d wanted children after the whole debacle with Evelyn, they hadn’t properly discussed it. “Children?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said, stroking his thumb along her cheek. “Maker, Taasha, ever since I walked into Miri’s home and saw Brisa in your arms...”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It was so new,” he murmured. “This all is still so new. I want that, eventually. But I was thinking, a house, out in the village. Once the immediate danger has been cleared and things calm down a bit. We could make a home.”

Taashath stared down at Cullen, the man who held her heart and she felt herself fall a little bit more in love with him. “Yes,” she murmured against his lips as she leaned down to kiss him. “A thousand times yes.”

 

The final battle came sooner than anyone had expected. A mere few days later, Evelyn faced down Corypheus, Alistair at her side. And just like that, it was over.

Alistair left for Weishaupt. There was a big celebration and Evelyn was silently counting down the hours until she could escape, though she still wasn’t sure where she’d go. She’d miss the few friends she had made, Taashath and Talon, but with so many painful memories at Skyhold, she spent more days crying than not anymore.

Standing in the barn, in front of Thom’s work table, she ran her fingers over the carved detailing over the griffon’s head on the rocking toy. Evelyn hadn’t worked up the nerve to give it away yet. Miri or Talon might like it, but she found she couldn’t bring herself to mention it to either of them, though she spent time with them regularly now.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind her and Evelyn turned, saw Talon striding in. Talon had taken the cure for the taint, had barely been able to get out of bed for several days, but since then, she’d seemed to fill out, the circles under her eyes all but vanished. Her belly was a gentle roundness that she constantly ran her hands over.

“Hey,” Evelyn murmured, then, before she could change her mind, she forced the words out. “You should take this,” she ran her hand over the rocking toy.

Talon’s brow furrowed and she shook her head. “No, I think you should hold onto it.”

Evelyn let out a snort of bitter laughter. “Talon, let’s be honest, after everything… I have no intention of ever getting involved with anyone ever again. I’m so grateful for them-” her voice hitched and she shook her head. “Even if I did… another child?” she shook her head. “I’m a soldier. That’s all.”

Talon’s head tilted to the side and she stared at Evelyn. “You really haven’t figured it out, have you?”

“What are you talking about?” Evelyn asked, feeling a strange sense of foreboding.

“When was the last time you had your monthly cycle?”

Evelyn blinked. Blinked again. Tried to remember. “I-” Months, she thought. Remembered it clearly, because she’d wept with relief in Thom’s arms. She thought of the exhaustion, the times she’d thrown up and bursting into tears over the smallest things. Evelyn had chalked it all up to stress. Dealing with the aftermath of the possession. “I’m pregnant,” it was barely a whisper as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “How did you-?”

Talon smiled gently. “I felt it, I… my healing magic, I can’t explain it. That night we helped Taasha get ready for Cullen’s surprise picnic, when I hugged you, I just knew. I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d figure it out.”

“It’s Thom’s.” Evelyn blinked and tears rolled down her cheeks. Thom’s child. She was with child, and it was Thom’s and this child would never know their father.

“Was there any doubt?” Talon asked, raising her brows.

“The demon it… there were times… I …” Evelyn couldn’t get the words out.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Talon stepped forward and pulled Evelyn into a gentle hug. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I never thought-” her voice cracked.

“I know you wanted to leave Skyhold as soon as possible, but maybe you’ll stick around, we can be miserable and pregnant together.” Talon joked.

“I suppose,” Evelyn said quietly. “I won’t be going to join Queen Anora’s army after all.”


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I apologize once again for taking so long to get this chapter up. My thumb drive broke during the move, and tragically, I hadn't backed anything up from it in years, so basically lost every single thing I've ever written that is not currently posted on ao3. Which made it really, really difficult to find any motivation to write.~~
> 
>  
> 
> I thank you, from the very bottom of my heart for sticking it out and reading this ridiculously long story. I appreciate you so very much and truly cannot thank you enough for reading. It honestly wouldn't be what it is without every single one of you that read it, and commented and left kudos.

Taashath sat on the soft bearskin rug in front of the roaring fireplace watching the flames flicker in the hearth. Parrot lay curled up on the chair purring quietly as he slept. A year. She and Cullen had been married just over a year now, they had their little cabin set a short distance from the town proper.

Still, every now and then, she felt utterly blindsided by how much she loved Cullen and how happy she truly was. Evelyn had only left a few short weeks earlier, and though Taashath missed the snarky woman, she knew it was for the best. She didn’t know how long Talon, Zevran, and their little ones would stay, but for now, they seemed content. Some of the people who had allied with the Inquisition had left, returned to their old lives, but so many had stayed.

Taasha heard the door open, heard the heavy thump of boots as Cullen came in, closed the door. “Mia wrote, my nosy siblings are on their way to Skyhold,” Cullen called as he stripped out of his armor, hung it on the stand in his small office.

Taashath chuckled quietly. “Cullen, if they were as nosy as you always insist, they would have shown up months ago.” He grunted quietly, and she grinned.

“Mia is bringing that candy you liked so much,” he called.

“I married the wrong Rutherford, obviously,” she answered back then Cullen stepped out of the office, narrowed his eyes at her.

“Brat,” he grumbled and she flashed a grin at him. The soft pad of bare feet sounded as he closed the distance. He paused, looked down at her, twin braids falling over her shoulders, clad only in one of his worn shirts. They barely fit her, but she still liked to wear them. It brushed the tops of her thighs, and the unlaced collar dipped down, revealing the swell of her breasts. “Who did this?” he asked, sinking down behind her, his finger reaching out to trace a finger over one of the braids. Then he leaned in, nuzzled the back of her neck.

“Talon,” she hummed, tilting her head to give him more access, then sighed softly at the soft sucking kisses he gifted her with. Taashath leaned back against him, and Cullen slipped one arm around her waist, the other, curled around the front of her throat, his thumb stroking the strong column as he made his way from the slope of her shoulder, up to just below her ear. “Eight years,” she murmured. “Eight years ago, you found me behind a crate and saved my life.”

Cullen paused in his ministrations. “Has it really?” He thought for a moment, remembered those days so clearly. His need to save the woman from the mob that would have beat her to death. His plan to show her mercy, to give her a swift death. But looking into those gold eyes of hers, he hadn’t been able to. “I suppose it has,” he murmured, his arm tightening around her.

Turning her head, Taashath looked back at him. “Who would have thought,” she murmured, turning around to face him, she cupped his face between her hands and straddled his thighs. “This is where we’d end up.”

Hands along her thighs, Cullen felt the raised scar that ran from her knee to her thigh, the injury that nearly killed her before he’d ever had the chance to know her. Up higher, he cupped her bottom, groaned realizing she wore nothing beneath the tunic. “Oh, my darling. I felt it, even there in that cave. The peace just being near you brought me. You changed everything.” Cullen lifted one hand up to cup her jaw, his thumb rubbing along the fade scars around her lips. “You saved me from a path that it shames me to think I might have walked.”

Tears stung her eyes, and Taasha blinked quickly to dash them away. “We saved each other,” she told him, ducking her head to press her forehead against his. “You gave me a life I wouldn’t have otherwise had. Friends and a family that I never even dreamed of hoping for.”

Cullen slid his hand to the back of her head, tugged her mouth down to his and kissed her until she tore her mouth away to gasp in a breath. “I want you.”

The corner of her mouth twisted up into a grin and she toppled him backward, kissed him until he had to break away to gasp in a breath. Then she was making her way down his body, shoving his shirt up to pepper kisses over his chest and stomach, down where she unlaced his trousers, yanked them down his legs and tossed them over her shoulder.

Parrot let out a yowl of protest when the offending item of clothing landed on the chair where he lay curled up. Annoyed, the cat left the room and Taashath chuckled as she returned to her task. “Taasha, darling-” Cullen reached for her but sucked in a sharp breath when her lips wrapped around his aching erection. Leaving him panting and gasping her name in a matter of minutes. “Taasha!” he choked out, his fingers curling around her horn, tugging. She released him with one last sucking pop of her lips, then crawled over him and grinned. “Wicked mouthed woman,” he muttered, sliding his hands down to her hips.

She rubbed the wet heat of her core over his length and Cullen nearly lost it then. He cursed, hissed and then she reached between them and took him into her body. It was a homecoming, he thought as the warm, wet heat wrapped around him. “I love you,” she murmured, golden eyes glassy.

Cullen wrapped his arms around her, rolled them, tucking her beneath him, pushed himself deeper. “Say it again,” he whispered, lowering his head to kiss her throat.

“I love you,” she said, arching her head back as Cullen began to rock in slow against her.

“Again,” he scraped his teeth over the tender spot beneath her ear, felt her nails dig into his back as a strangled whimper escaped her lips.

“Love you!” Then he was lost to the pleasure of her. Driving into her faster and deeper until her back bowed and his name exploded on her lips. Cullen reared up onto his knees, holding her hips aloft as he continued.

It seemed like hours later when he finally collapsed onto the rug beside her, sweat slicking his skin and causing the tunic she still wore to cling wonderfully to her breasts. Their breathing was unsteady, and Cullen thought his heart might pound right out of his chest. Taashath turned her head, blinked slowly at him. “Say it,” she mumbled.

“Forever,” he murmured, sliding his hand under the tunic to rest a hand over her stomach. “Forever.”

“Forever,” she echoed, rolling over and curling up against him. “Cullen,” she murmured, tongue flicking out to lick at the sweat-slick skin of his throat, just to hear him groan. “How long will your family be staying do you think?”

“A few months?” he said, his arm curling around her, then he tugged her over him, his hand beneath the tunic to trace up and down the curve of her spine.

“Do you think...” she lifted her head, resting her chin on her palm as she peered down at him. “Cullen, are you even listening to me?” His eyes were closed, a faint smile tugging up his lips.

“Yes, my darling. I’m listening.”

“Do you think they’d stay longer?”

He made a quiet sound. Though he’d be happy for it. So many years since he’d seen them, spent any time with any of them. He couldn’t imagine why they would want to stay. But if Taashath wanted them to stay, he’d beg on hands and knees if that’s what it took. “You haven’t even met them yet,” he said, though he knew that his sisters would adore her.

“No,” she said and he heard the smile in her voice. “But I imagine they would want to meet their new niece or nephew before they leave.”

It took long moments for the words to register. He heard them. Niece or nephew. But his brain couldn’t seem to process them. Cullen felt a sharp pain on his earlobe, and his eyes snapped open, saw Taashath peering down at him, amusement creasing her features, her hand drawing back from the ear she’d just pinched. “You’re-” He rolled her beneath him, sat back on his haunches and stared down at her.

The tunic still clung to her skin from sweat and the proof of their lovemaking glistened between her thighs. He stared at her belly, found himself reaching out to rest his spread hand against it. He’d spent many nights with his head pillowed on it when the nightmares and the nagging effects of the lyrium withdrawal struck. “But-” he broke off. Her monthly cycle had never seemed to falter in their time together. He had grown accustomed to it, the tears and the cravings, not for sweets, but for salty things. To the days she slept more, complained of cramping and an aching back, which Cullen always remedied with one of the magicked pillows that held a gentle heat for hours, while he would knead the sore muscles of her back.

She hadn’t missed a cycle, not once. It had only been a few months since they decided she would stop taking the tonics, and what happened would happen. “The last few days,” she explained, reaching a hand out to him. Cullen took it, let her tug him back down over her, but he kept his weight off her, his mind reeling. “I felt off. The cinnamon…” her face twisted with disgust at just the mention if it. “Just the smell of it, made my stomach churn. I asked Talon. She knew with Evelyn, so I asked her.”

“And you’re-” He thought that he might weep. “You’re with child?” It was barely a whisper. “Our child?”

Taashath laughed softly, but he saw the tears glistening in her eyes. “Well, I would hope it’s ours.” He lowered his head, claimed her mouth.

“Andraste preserve me if our child is your sense of humor.”

 

 

Evelyn stepped into the tavern, a hand resting on the sleeping babe wrapped against her chest. Blinking as her eyes adjusted from the bright sun outside to the dimly lit room, she glanced around. It was relatively empty at the early hour. “Hello,” the woman behind the counter called.

“Hello,” Evelyn echoed, crossing over to her. “Are you the owner? I saw the sign,” she waved a hand toward the front of the tavern. Room for rent. Help wanted.

The woman raised a brow, glanced at the sleeping bundle that lay against Evelyn’s chest. “Which one?”

“Either? Both?” She’d only just arrived in Markham. It was a ridiculous notion, she thought. But this had been Thom’s home and Evelyn hadn’t known where else to go. Not back to her parents. Not after everything. “I have money,” she told her. She hadn’t taken much when she departed Skyhold. It had been hard, leaving the few friends she’d made, but with a promise to write, and to visit once she’d settled, the decision had been the right one. “So I can pay rent. But, I wouldn’t mind a job.”

“You ever worked in a tavern before?” The woman raised a brow.

“No,” Evelyn said, her body beginning to rock slightly when she felt her child stir. “But I can take orders. I’m a soldier… was...”

“What brings you to Markham?” the woman asked as she wiped down the counter in front of her, seemingly absently.

“My husband grew up here,” she said, knowing that had things been different, they would have married eventually.

“Did he? Who’s your husband?”

“Thom Rainier,” Evelyn told her, and she wasn’t sure what reaction to expect. If anyone might remember him, or have heard tale of his crimes.

“Rainier?” The woman let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. “Haven’t heard that name round these parts in years. The woman leaned forward, peered at the baby, the crown of dark brown hair. “I’ve heard tell that Rainier is a wanted man in Orlais. After slaughtering a family for coin.”

A mistake, Evelyn realized. Coming here was a mistake. “He joined the Grey Wardens. All past crimes are forgiven by the Wardens,” she said, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached. “But that doesn’t mean he forgot them. That he didn’t regret his actions every second of every day.” She gave a sharp shake of her head, wondered where else she might go. “He was a good man. He did everything he could to make up for his crimes. I was wrong to come here. I’d wanted-” her voice broke and she was so angry. “I won’t raise my child in a place where she will be punished for the deeds of her parents.” Evelyn turned on her heel, patted her daughter’s back when she made a fussy sound.

“Will Thom be joining you here?”

Lip curling, Evelyn turned back around, glared at the woman who must be in her fifties. Took in the graying hair at her temples, the smile lines that creased her face. “He’s dead,” she bit out the words. “He was killed by a demon trying to help the Inquisition save Thedas from Corypheus.”

“I’m Bess,” the woman said, canting her head to the side. “Don’t go storming off like that, let me take a look at that girl of yours.” Evelyn splayed her hands over her daughter’s back, rubbing to calm the squalling that she knew was about to come. “I knew Thom when he was a boy. Trouble that boy was. The good kind. Mischief and fun. Up until his sister passed.” Evelyn blinked away the sudden burn of tears. “What’d you name the sweet little one?”

“Liddy,” Evelyn forced the name out past her tight throat. “Lidia, after Thom’s sister.”

Bess’ face seemed to soften even more at that. “You don’t need to stay here, I know where you can stay, though I’ll let you try out the job.”

“Where-” Evelyn started to ask, a frown marring her face.

“The house has been empty since Victor Rainier died. A little bit of land behind it. The Walters boys have been farming the land, seemed a shame to let it go to waste. But it would seem, that house is yours now.”

Evelyn didn’t know what to say. She opened her mouth, snapped it closed and shook her head. The door opened before she could reply and glancing over her shoulder, she saw Alistair standing there, blinking as his own eyes adjusted. He offered her a smile, then one for Bess. “Alistair Therin,” he said, holding out his hand.

Bess’ brows shot up and she looked at Evelyn, then back at Alistair. “The Alistair Therin? The one who helped the Hero of Ferelden stop the Blight all those years ago?”

He heaved a sigh, looked at Evelyn whose lips were fighting back a grin. “I really need to change my name,” he muttered but smiled at Bess.

“What interesting company you keep...” Bess trailed off, brow knitting as she realized Evelyn hadn’t introduced herself.

The mark on her hand was concealed with the fingerless leather gloves she always wore out now, that offered her a modicum of anonymity. “Evelyn,” she said with a soft breath of air. “I’m Evelyn Rainier.”

Bess’ eyes drifted to the hand that now rested on Liddy’s back as the baby woke from her nap and demanded to be fed. “I imagine you have some very interesting stories to tell. Welcome to Markham, Evelyn Rainier.”

A few short hours later, there were tears silently trickling down her cheeks as Evelyn stood in the center of the small house. The home where Thom had grown up. It was so much more than she could have ever hoped for. A thick layer of dust settled on everything, and it desperately needed to be cleaned. She and Liddy wouldn’t move in until then. “Thom,” she whispered, closed her eyes and swore she felt the brush of his lips on her cheek.

“ _Home_ ,” it was a whisper against her ear. “ _You’re both home._ ”

The front door opened and Alistair appeared, Liddy cradled in his arms, babbling and cooing happily. He paused, saw the tears on her face, but Evelyn smiled at him, felt the brush of lips again. “Home,” she echoed the whisper in her ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you, and I hope that the ending was satisfying enough.


End file.
